#beaded waist flower girl dress

[featherandferns]

outdoor pool(fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | part of the F.W.B universe, but can be read as a stand-alone too | a little sappy but hopefully not too much!

content warning: drink & drug use; sex (f and m receiving; semi-public); technically drink-driving

word count: 5k

Blurb: Your latest 'date night' involves breaking into a Kook's back garden to swim around in their pool. After fooling around, JJ comes to a realisation.

Kook houses could be mistaken for castles when compared to most places on the Cut. Neatly kept shrubberies and bushes trimmed into ridiculous shapes. Fountains and water features, lit up in sparkly white and exciting red and blue. Obnoxious house names when numbers would easily do the same trick. But numbering was too common for the Kooks. They weren’t just another thing in the bunch; they’re the stand-out special. JJ takes them in as he walks down the dimly lit street, searching for you. You'd said to meet him on Basker Street (buried deep in one of the most prestigious Kook holiday neighbourhoods), and to bring some wine. He'd assumed there wasn't much a standard for the wine, grabbing the cheapest bottle he could find.

The sparsely spread streetlamps glare white on the concrete. When a silhouette of a girl, in a dress, comes into view, JJ smiles. He's pretty certain it's you - even more so when the figure waves - and picks up his pace.

“Hey,” JJ says.

“Hey,” you smile, sharing a brief kiss. The touch of your hand on his cheek is too fleeting – not that he’d ever say. “You found me.”

“What is this?”

“Date night,” you say. You spot the wine and grin, taking it to study the label. “You remembered.”

“Well, you only sent me ten texts to get some,” JJ sarcastically replies with a smile. You roll your eyes and go to dig about in his shorts for his pocketknife.

As you work the bottle open, you ask, “was it the most expensive one on the shelf?”

“Of course,” JJ says, as if insulted you would expect anything less. You glance up at him, bemused. At your struggling to open the wine, JJ takes it from you and does it himself. He fills the quiet (and blocks out your protests) by asking, “what’re we doing here, anyway? Property hunting?”

“It’s date night,” you repeat. Yeah, doesn’t help.

The cork pops out the bottle. JJ goes to toss it but you stop him, taking it and silently putting it in his pocket, a little embarrassed. It makes JJ smile though. The soft parts that you let him see, like your sentimentality, are like catching glimpses of shooting stars. He noticed about two weeks into officially dating you that you had an affinity for keepsakes. Pressed flowers from your walks; seashells from surf dates; the cut-out front of a condom packet, which you eventually confessed was from the first night you two spent, officially together. Whilst JJ had ragged you endlessly, he couldn’t deny that it was unexpectedly adorable.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers, guiding him down the street. He swigs from the wine and passes it to you, taking a moment to take in the sight of you. Your dress fits snug around your waist, turning tight against your chest. Thin straps over each shoulder. It hangs loose and pretty, ending just before your knees. As you walk, the barely-there breeze from midnight makes it sway. Then he’s taking in the tiny beads threaded into your hair. Pink and blue and green. As you wiggle your fingers more comfortably into his hold, he feels the rings adorning your fingers against his skin, some rubbing against his own. One of them is his. A small token that he’d disguised as a ‘congratulations’ gift after a fight. When JJ had given it to you, he didn’t feel up to confessing that it was so you would have a piece of him. A silent marker that you were taken - taken by him. A symbol of his affection which he couldn’t quite put into words. Couldn’t bring himself to. But when you took it, you didn’t ask why extensively. You accepted his bullshit excuse and smiled, kissing him in thanks before slipping it on. It was too large for your fingers but fit well enough on your thumb. He often saw you play with it, as if perpetually checking it hadn’t fallen off.

“You look pretty, by the way,” he tells you. Smooth, Maybank. You’re a real Romeo.

 You look up at him and smile, almost bashful like he just recited prose in your honour. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

You reach up to press a kiss to his lips, then pull away and keep walking down the moonlit street.

JJ appreciates you. He appreciates the way you don’t push him when he’s not so good at the romance part of things. JJ can talk dirty; he could say the most disgusting things that would have a nun wanting to pull a Vincent Van Gogh. He knows how to touch you to have you trembling and begging, but when things get sentimental, he doesn’t always know how to act. He often brushes off compliments with a joke and disguise his own in some stupid tease. But you seemed to notice and understand. You let JJ do things for you – like open the bottle of wine – because at some point you clocked that acts of service were the best way for JJ to show his affection. He hadn’t figured that one out: Kie had, one day when she came to the chateau to find him working on your pushbike, unbeknownst to you. When JJ explained what he was doing and why (that you'd been complaining about the chain always coming off), Kiara took the mick out of him before casually telling him that his ‘love-language’ was acts of service. Whilst JJ had shrugged it off and told her to do one, he did think about it later that day, after he gave you back your bike (which you had, in all honesty, thought was stolen) and saw how your face lit up. Felt how you kissed him in gratitude. Felt how it made his heart lurch in a way that still felt unnatural.

You take the wine from JJ, pulling his thoughts back to reality. He watches as you take a long drink.

“Alright, what’s the plan for this date-night, then?” he asks.

“So, I’m at work the other day, right? And this waitress I work with has a bunch of friends who come here during the summers.”

“Is this gonna be a long story?”

“Shut up.”

JJ chuckles. He takes the wine and drinks, letting you continue.

“So she starts telling me that this girl’s family always leaves the same day, every year, a week before school starts up.”

JJ wants to groan at the reminder that school is just around the corner. Joy, oh, joy.

“So, there’s this big empty Kook house, right? I think, hm, that’s sort of interesting, but don’t deep it all that much. But then she starts telling me how they’ve been having problems with their security and that they were kinda reluctant to leave. They did anyway, after finding out they can get the stuff fixed on the twenty-seventh.”

JJ’s furrows his brows as he processes all the parts of your story. He looks down at you, passing the wine. You take a drink and then grin up at him, becoming giddy.

“So now I’m like: there’s a kook house with no security, no working cameras, and nobody home. Then, the pièce de résistance happens.”

JJ can’t help but mirror your grin, still a little sceptical. The two of you turn down a dark alley as your story begins to come to its climax.

“She starts telling me about this party this girl had there the other night and me (being the polite person that I am) asks to see some pictures. She starts showing me these garden party pics and I notice the biggest fuck-off pool you have ever seen.”

Another swig each of the wine. Your pace is beginning to slow.

“So, now I’m like: kook house; no security; no cameras; nobody home; huge pool; hot boyfriend.”

“Oh?” JJ prompts, smirking.

“And so I present to you…”

You come to a stop and detach your hold from his. Moving to stand in front of him, you gesture to a tall, black-painted fence grandly, as unveiling the latest Amazonian discovery.

“Date night!”

JJ nods, impressed, and holds the wine out to you in approval.

“So, our date night is basically breaking and entering into a Kook’s back garden to swim around in their pool?”

You shrug, as if innocent, and nod up at him. “Yeah, pretty much. Thoughts?”

The kiss he presses to your lips makes you laugh, but there’s no complaints as you melt against him, tugging him a smidge closer by his hands. “I think you’re like something out of my Goddamn dreams.”

“Cute,” you whisper against his lips. He tries to fight off his blush. Pulling away, you stand near the fence. “Give us a boost?”

“Yes, ma’am,” JJ mumbles.

Dumping the wine for a moment, JJ interlocks his fingers to form a makeshift step and boosts you up the fence on the count of three (shamelessly glancing up your skirt as you go). You grunt as you pull your body weight up and over. He hears the thump of your feet landing on the other side. The sight of your fingertips wiggling over the other side of the fence makes him laugh.

“Pass me the wine?”

JJ does as you ask and then he’s hoisting himself over the fence with a grunt. When he jumps down, you’re already wandering across the lawn. His eyes widen as he takes it all in.

There’s a bandstand – a bandstand­ – off to the side, alongside a lawn swing. On the patio (that looks power-jetted clean) sits a pristine table for eight, with the most high-end barbeque station set up behind. The windows of the downstairs are floor to ceiling; not one smudge or fleck of dirt in sight. He doesn’t bother to inspect the flower arrangements, but he’s sure that if he were to, there wouldn’t be one weed in sight, and not one leaf out of place.

The lights don’t seem to be motion censored because as you move towards the pool - likely searching for the button to get rid of the cover - nothing lights up. It’s only the leftover glow from the streetlights and the moonlight above that illuminate the yard and yourself.

As he watches you a moment and smiles. Calling you pretty was an understatement. Radiant might be a better match, as you smile to yourself whilst working back the cover. The dress and the hair and the detail of the wine is adorable, hinting at all the thought you’ve put into something that you seem to be trying to pass off as ‘incidental.’ Your affinity for petty crime, high sex drive and textbook rebellion nearly brings him to his knees. He wasn’t kidding when he said you were out of his dreams.

“You gonna come over or what?” you call.

“Keep your voice down, huh?” JJ says back, but does as he's told.

He takes the wine from the floor where you’ve ditched it and takes a few more swigs. The whir of mechanics is droning in the background as the pool cover peels back.

“Most of the houses round here are holiday spots,” you remind him. “I bet half of them are empty.”

“Imagine having two houses, huh?” JJ says, turning around to take in the house once more. White walls which look freshly painted...It’s definitely not the chateau or his piece-of-shit home, that’s for sure. “I’d get myself a boat house, I think. Just living on the water forever, you know?”

When he turns around to continue chewing your ear off, his words get stuck in his throat. You’re stripping out of your dress, stepping out of your shoes, until soon you’re standing in just your bralette and panties. As you toss the dress to the side of the grass, you look up at JJ and give a small laugh. Taking the wine, you ask, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna jump in?”

JJ grins, finding his thoughts, and he tugs off his t-shirt. He digs the phone and cork out of his pockets, adding them to the pile, then toes off his boots. He takes the bottle from your outstretched hand and, as soon as it’s in his hold, JJ’s smile twists into mischievous and he shoves you into the water by your shoulder. The small shriek you give out gets drowned out by the pool, making him laugh. When your head emerges, you’re raking your hair off your face.

“JJ! I didn’t wanna get my hair wet!” you cuss at him.

He rolls his eyes, takes another swig, ditches the bottle on the side, then cannonballs into the water. He hears the crash as he breaks through the surface mellow out by the weirdly soothing lull from being underwater. Swimming to the surface, he shakes his head like a dog trying to get dry. As water droplets spray at you, you keep complaining. The only way you get him to stop is by splashing him. That turns into a thing of its own, and by the end the two of you are thoroughly drenched and laughing your heads off.

When the commotion dies down – adrenaline still high in the veins – JJ treads water and looks at you. You’re watching him too, smiling in content, and then you make an adorable face as if to say, ‘not a bad idea, huh?’

JJ swims over, placing one hand on your waist to pull you nearer, and captures you in a soggy kiss. When you break apart, you begin swimming backwards with a small giggle. You move to float on your back and sigh at the sky of stars.

“Imagine living here and doing this anytime you like.”

“I can see how much I’ve got in the bank. Offer to buy it off them,” JJ suggests, swimming to the poolside to retrieve the wine and take another swig.  

“Considering your ‘bank’ is a piggy bank, I don’t know if we’ve got much of a shot,” you tell him.

JJ pushes himself up and out of the water. The stones aren’t cold on his feet; it’s a pleasantly warm night. He whistles for your attention and you move to tread water again. Your bralette is stuck tight to your skin from the wet, making it nearly see-through. Nipples hardening under the cool water, they push against the cotton. JJ tries to shove the dirty thoughts that come to the back of his head for later. He then puts on a show of standing to attention at the pool side, making you grin.

“And here we have JJ Maybank, diving for the Pogues of Kildare County. He’s been training for this day his whole life. Let’s see what he’s got,” you commentate in a deep, Kentucky-type voice.

JJ snorts at your antics before gathering himself. He limbers up, shamelessly and subtly flexes his muscles for your benefit, and then dives off the side, air whooshing past his ears. Before he hits the water, he hears a whistle and whoop from you, making him smile as he sinks under. Swimming over to your kicking legs, he comes to the surface about an arm’s length away. You cringe with a smile as he shakes his wet hair out of his face. Taking you by the waist, he pulls you closer. You’re at the shallow end now; JJ settles on his feet.

“What’s the mark, then?”

“Hm,” you pretend to think. Your arms loop around his shoulders and neck, and you float nearer so you can wrap yourself around him, nearly straddling him. “An eight?”

“Tough critic,” JJ complains weakly, grinning down at you.

You pretended to debate over his words, rocking your head from side to side, pursing your lips. “It might be possible to sway me.”

“Oh really?” he says. He leans down so his forehead bumps against yours.

You let out a low giggle. He watches your eyes look down to his lips, lashes coming close to kissing your cheeks. He lets his own gaze sink down. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Yeah.”

JJ presses his lips to yours.

Kissing you feels like coming up for air after diving for hours, or seeing sunlight after a restless winter night. JJ never thought he could become the type of guy who would enjoy the same person forever; thought he would tire of their way of kissing and of their company, and they, in turn, would tire of him. But kissing you never got tiresome. It was like it was always new, and yet it was never changing. The small noises you made, so quiet that if he weren’t waiting to catch them, he never would. The habits you had formed: fingers tethering into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, and the way JJ loved to tease his teeth against your lower lip.

As the two of you make out, JJ somehow pulls you closer. One of your hands gently brushes down his chest, over his muscles, and he feels as his body responds happily to your touch. The caress of your fingers, one by one, chasing down him. The slip of your leg, tugging you closer, grinding against him. His tongue sensually brushes against yours - one of his hands coming to cup your jaw and angle your head just-so – as the kiss turns licentious. You sigh against his lips, as if breathing new life into him, and JJ feels himself begin to harden. When his hand on your jaw slides down your neck, a brief thought makes him harder still: that his whole palm could wrap around your throat in the most delicious, delicate of ways. He brings it to cup at your breast, palming over the thin, soaked fabric of your bralette. JJ briefly pulls his mouth from yours.

There’s a split second where you let out a breathless moan, head tipping forward, and JJ smiles down at you through barely open eyes.

“Ever done it in a pool?”

You open your eyes, looking up at him. He feels as you grind against him, becoming needy for friction, and he lets his thumb tease at your hardening nipple. Small pants of pleasure slip past your lips as you reply, “can’t say that I have.”

“Wanna cross it off the bucket list, pretty girl?” he wonders, resting his forehead against yours once more.

JJ likes having the control. Of seeing you at his mercy, preening into his touch, whining and desperate and lax, and all for him. Makes him feel like a young God.

Cocky, he rubs you against him with a guiding hand on your ass. “Hm?”

But JJ forgets why he’s so drawn to you, sometimes. Forgets how you’re a little too much like him. It all comes racing back when he feels your hand slipping into his shorts, into his boxers, and you palm at him, hard under your touch. He gasps against your lips, confidence killed short. His eyes slip shut in pleasure, groaning as you start to give him a hand-job.

He can hear the smirk in your words as you ask, “do you?”

Maybe it’s the thrill of it all: of being with you, of sneaking into someone’s pool, of fucking in someone else’s back garden, where if anybody took a moment to glance out their back window, they could see the two of you…JJ’s sure he’s never felt this way. Never felt so raptured; so merciless.

JJ guides a hand to your panties, slipping his fingers under the cotton that’s pasted to your skin. You’re wet against his touch (a different sort of slick to the pool water) and he twitches in your hand at the feel of it. The battle for control fades away as the two of you simultaneously work at getting the other off, desperately chasing your own highs. JJ’s fingers work between your legs, pushing into you slowly, coaxing your thighs to part under his touch. He uses one hand to try and hold you up, but as you keep jacking him off, he feels his resolve breaking. At some point, he works to have you pressed against the pool wall. The water barely reaches the top of your shoulders and JJ’s chest is halfway exposed.

He's groaning, resting his chin on your shoulder, lost in feel of your smaller hand wrapped around him. Your head is slumped against his collarbones, breath hot and fanning on his chest. It’s as if it has been filled with lead and you can’t hold it up, collapsing against him as you pant and gently moan as JJ pumps his fingers in and out of you. In and out. Sometimes your pace falters on him, your hold stumbling when his thumb brushes against your clit, but you soon recover.

The two you know the other’s body well now. There’re no scars to hide and no insecurities to shun. No cellulite or stretch mark for you to be ashamed of, and no faded bruise and semi-healed cigarette burn for JJ to overthink. There’s only you and him, and the promise of pleasure and safety.

JJ feels himself getting close. You seem to know, somehow. Your fingers loop into the threads of his hair, coiling around like a snake, tugging him so his head is nearer to your lips. He’s almost whining, eyes clenched shut, rutting against your hold as he desperately chases his release. There’s a hot, wet breath on the edge of JJ’s ear as you sinfully whisper, “doing so good for me, baby. So good.”

He can’t help but come with a shudder, gasping out a moan, trembling against you. Your name falls into the mix and your hold on him doesn't cease. JJ takes a moment to catch his breath, ensuring he doesn’t stop fingering you. As the euphoric haze begins to fade, and he manages his eyes open, he feels your head once again on his chest. You’re whining too, pitch high and eager, the sounds short as you’re gasping his name as if in plea. He can feel you despairingly driving his fingers deeper, practically riding his hand, and he smirks against the skin of your shoulder. Kisses of fake nicety as he then goes to bite at your skin, never hard enough to break the surface. You moan, louder, sensitive like every nerve ending is on fire. Anybody could hear you. Anybody could see you fucking his fingers. JJ puts more focus to your clit, applying pressure as he rubs, and you seem newly driven. Your hands grab at his shoulders, forcing your body on his fingers harder. Deeper. JJ pulls back enough to look down at you, eyes hooded, and feels his spent dick twitch at the sight of you using him to find release. Mouth hung open, gasping and panting, eyes clenched shut as if it’s all incomprehensible. Something from his Goddamn dreams.

JJ uses his spare hand to gently push back your hair from your face, swiping a finger over the apple of your cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. He scissors his fingers, pushing against your walls. You’re close. He can feel it. He can hear it. The sloppily disturbance of the water from your movement is so obscenely filthy in the context of what’s happening. Anybody could see you. JJ presses more wet kisses to your neck, to your collarbone. Anywhere his lips can reach until they find home on yours. “Come on, baby. You can let go. Come on.”

Finally, the tether snaps. Your moan is shameless and loud, as if you’ve forgotten where you are. As if there’s nothing else that you need to know expect that JJ’s there, easing you through it all. He feels as your walls convulse around his fingers, pushing him out and pulling him in, and he pants through his arousal as he watches you come. Watches as your teeth sink into your lower lip. As your face shines hot. The pool water droplets shining on your skin. How you’re shaking under him. Watches as you ease your eyes open, meeting his gaze. Sees the unshed tears in your lash line from the pleasure. The bashful, thankful smile you barely manage to show. There’s the feeling of one of your hands on his wrist, gently but firmly easing his touch away, overstimulated. When you gasp as his fingers slip out of you, all too easy, you’re still staring into his eyes. JJ’s thoughts are mostly vacant except for a few, and all of them are about you.  

Your hand cups at his jaw so you can pull him into a kiss. It’s fleeting and sweet.

“If we ever win the lottery, we’re getting a pool,” you tell him.

JJ laughs, breathless. “Agreed.”

“Jesus. Pretty good date, huh?” you chuckle. JJ can’t help but kiss you again.

“Hell yeah.”

You both pull back enough to take the other in fully. JJ tucks himself back into his boxers, and you correct your underwear so the both of you are decent. You look around at the garden, as if remembering where you are.

“We should probably get out of here before we get caught,” you say. You don’t sound overly concerned though. JJ smiles.

“Think we might’ve blown our cover, somehow,” he agrees.

You roll your eyes, diffident. JJ swims backwards, extending a hand to bring you with him. Neither of you look down into the water. Instead, you both swim towards the deep end again, where your belongings had been ditched. The two of you climb out into the balmy one-in-the-morning air. JJ goes to your clothes – shoving his phone and the cork back into his shorts – and picks up your dress. The two of you swap the wine and dress, you having just taken a drink, and JJ takes a swig too.

“You ride your bike here?” you wonder as you pull on the dress. It seems to be a bit of a struggle against your wet skin.

“John B gave me a lift,” JJ replies. He pulls on his shirt. At your struggle to work up the straps, JJ walks over to help. “You walk?”

“Drove. I can give us a lift to the chateau. Told my parents I'd crash there tonight,” you say. JJ nods.

Once you’re dressed, you look up at him and smile. He's heart thuds painfully in his chest. He leans down to kiss you, chaste and tender. The two of you start back to the fence. JJ boosts you over, hands the wine, climbs over himself. You hold hands as you walk to your car. Sliding into the passenger side, JJ sighs against the seat. The wine’s now empty and he shoves the bottle under the back seat. You get behind the wheel and start up the engine. As the car blinks to life, coughing up a new lung in the process, the radio kicks in. It’s tuned into some crackly channel which is only just in service, playing mostly oldies and classics. The volume is low, just loud enough to tune out the concerning noise of the engine, and you reverse out of your spot and begin down the road.

JJ relaxes into the seat, crossing his ankles. There's one of his caps on the dashboard that he left the other day; taking it, he puts it on his head. JJ watches as you dig about in the centre console for your cigarettes. Holding one between your lips, you light it up with a flick of your lighter. You know JJ doesn’t mind you smoking in the car so you don’t bother cracking a window. He watches you take a drag, leaning one elbow on the window frame, finger cradling the cig, as you use the other to leisurely steer. The roads are dead. It’s dark and your headlights are on low. JJ glances out the side window to take in the starry night, looking past his reflection in the dark. Your fingers drum on the steering wheel as Rich Girl starts up. He hears as you hum along quietly, lazy as if unaware you are, and he smiles. His own fingers tap along to the beat on his thigh. Glancing over to you, he watches you change hands on the wheel (cigarette precariously propped between two fingers). He takes the chance to grab at the hand nearest him, pulling it to his lips to press kisses against your knuckles. Your eyes flit to him as he does, smiling sweetly, and you move to interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t want summer to end,” JJ tells you, his voice low in confession.

“Me neither,” you reply.

The radio host starts lamely interrupting the end of the song, hyping up what’s to come next for the truck drivers and road trippers, driving in the dead of the night.

“What’s gonna happen with us, at school?” you wonder. There’s an anxiety to your voice.

JJ shrugs. He answers honestly. “I don’t know. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean that, right? Like, you’re not just gonna dip?” you worry.

JJ frowns. “No. I’m not gonna dip.”

“Okay,” you say, finding a smile again. You nod, looking back to the road. “Okay.”

As the song comes to a close, a thought seems to flash in your mind and your head whips to look at him. “You know I’m not gonna dip either, right?”

JJ laughs, “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Okay,” you say, chuckling. “Just wanted to check.”

Everything about the night is infinite. The pool and the wine and the sneaking. The fooling around and the tender moments after. And now, in the car, with the pair of you easily slipping between sentimental and sincere, carefree and young. He loves that he can do this with you. Loves how he can trust you to understand him; how you’re a little bossy and a little controlling, but how you also allow him to see the nostalgic, tender-hearted teenage girl beneath it all. The girl who keeps corks from five-dollar wine and collects napkins from breakfast diners. Loves how you feel safe enough with him to mess around in someone else’s back garden; to let him have you, all of you, nearly every night.

The words come to JJ, easy now. Obvious. The many layers of feelings that he had whenever he thought of you or whenever he was around you seem so easily condensed and summarised in that one word. He always thought it would be terrifying to feel it, and even more terrifying to say it. But with you, it isn’t. If anything, it’s easier. Simpler. It encapsulates all the things JJ likes about you, and even the things that aggravate him too.

“I love you.”

Your humming stops. You glance over to him, eyes a little wide. The brief wash of anxiety that drenches JJ passes quickly when he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile.

"Really?" you ask gently. Somewhat disbelieving. As if there could be any doubt in his mind. As if you weren't easy for JJ to fall in love with.

JJ smiles back. It might be the softest, sweetest smile he's ever had the pleasure to show someone. Only you. "Really."

When you giggle, it's quiet; teeth sinking into your lower lip. The moonlight washes over you. Looking back to the road, you continue smiling, giddy like a school girl after her first kiss. JJ can't help but watch you. Now that he's said it once, he wants to say it again and again. He won't though. Doesn't want to be too much, too fast. But then the silence stretches too long, making him antsy.

"Any chance you might feel the same way?" he tentatively asks, hating how desperate it sounds.

Your face shocks with realisation. Laughing, you look to him. "Oh shit! Yeah, I love you too."

JJ laughs along, shaking his head.

"Sorry. Just caught me off guard. Kinda forgot I had to reply," you confess, chuckling. Rolling his eyes, JJ squeezes your hand, still intertwined with his. He's pinned each and every hope on you; every wish for the future and every regret of the past. No matter what happens now, the two of you are forever tethered to this moment and to those words. To each other.

Your demeanour softens. Bringing his hand to your lips, you press a kiss to the skin. His knuckles are permanently scarred; having broken and healed over so many times. But so are yours. Same coin: different sides. When you repeat the phrase, it's as if you're passing a secret and whispering a prayer straight to God's ear.

"I love you."

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[mrsmikaelsxn]

Birthday Girl

masterlist

pairing: james potter x female reader

warnings: fluff, kissing

summary: james planned a wonderful (and humorous) birthday morning for you

a/n: i'm actually so proud of this one and i love it sm, i hope you love it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

song: dancing queen - abba

James enters your dormitory and smiles when he sees you peacefully sleeping. He excited tiptoes to the bed before jumping on top of you.

You groan at the weight as you wake up and adjust to the light in the room. You rub your eyes with a lazy smile looking at your boyfriend.

He sits up and goes over to you. He kisses your forehead, "Happy," your left cheek, "birthday," your right cheek, "my," and finally your lips, "love!"

"Thank you, James," you comb your fingers through his hair and he rests his chin on your chest, looking at you with admiration in his eyes.

"I have got stuff planned all day for you," he says.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm, so get ready. And dress up!"

"If you say so," you bite your lip in excitement. James always makes things fun. You get out of bed and go into the bathroom while James 'reads' a book that was on your nightstand - he was just flipping pages and holding it upside down.

You wash your face, brush your teeth, and use a quick spell to wash and dry your hair in seconds. You do your makeup and put on some deodorant.

You step back into the room and James watches you as you pick a simple but gorgeous dress from your closet. You take off James' shirt which you slept in and pull it over your head with your back turned away from him.

You only had your underwear only since you didn't sleep with a bra. You glance back at him and see him playfully pouting at you. You roll your eyes with a laugh and finish getting dressed.

You turn around and do a pose, "How do I look?"

"Stunning as always," James stands up and goes over to you. He puts his hand on your waist and pulls you into a sweet kiss. He licks your lip for you to open but you pull back.

"Nope, you are gonna mess up my lipstick," you laugh looking at his mouth, "this color looks good on you," you grin as he blushes. You take your hand and slide your thumb on his mouth, wiping the bit of lipstick that got on him.

"Well, I think it's time to go," he said glancing at his watch.

James steps out first and as you follow you get squeezed in a tight hug.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" You are finally let go of and suck in a breath after being suffocated. You look and see Dorcas, Marlene, Lily, and Alice.

"Thank you, thank you," you do a dramatic bow and they giggle. Lily steps in front of you and puts a sash on you that says 'Birthday Girl'. Dorcas puts a tiara on your head, Marlene puts on a bunch of bead necklaces on you, and Alice gives you two gorgeous bouquets of flowers.

"Guys you are going to make me cry, you didn't have to do all of this!"

"Don't be silly!" Lily waves her hands.

"You're our best friend," Marlene puts her arm on your shoulder.

"And the sweetest person we know," Alice continues.

"Exactly! We love you," Dorcas smiles.

"Well, I love you all more," you step back into the room to place the flowers in a vase you got with your wand, then you go back to the four girls.

You hear a throat clear a few feet away from where you all are standing, "If you ladies are done, I believe it is time for breakfast," James says.

The girls share a look with giddy smiles and you furrow your eyebrows.

You are all outside the Great Hall now. James in front of you and the four girls behind you. James pushes the doors open and your jaw drops. Alice giggles as she records everything.

You are met with Peter and Sirius each on their own table on the two opposite sides of the Hall. Sirius in a tight glittery pink dress, Peter in a tight crop top and matching tight shorts. They have matching goofy grins.

James jogs over to one of the two middle tables and hops onto it. He takes off his shirt, revealing a purple bra and he mutters a spell that turned his pants into a tight skirt a couple of inches above his knee.

The students cheer as the lights turn off and colored light beams start moving around. Suddenly, a disco ball comes from the ceiling with Remus in a disco ball jumpsuit sitting on it. He spins as it reaches low enough for him to jump onto the table next to James.

"Oh my goodness," you blush.

James summons a microphone and speaks into it, "Happy birthday to my lovely girlfriend! The beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, lovely, angelic Y/n L/n!"

Your face burns even hotter as the students all look at you as cheer.

The song 'Dancing Queen' by a muggle group called ABBA starts playing.

You look at the staff table and see everyone with smiles on their faces - except McGonagall who was laughing into her hands.

James starts to sing as he dances along the table, "Ooh you can dance!"

"You can jive!" Peter continues.

"Having the time of your life!" Remus hops around on the table.

"Ooh, see that girl," Sirius winks at you, "Watch that scene!"

"Digging the dancing queen!" They all sing in sync. You smile brightly at them as they continue to sing the song.

James hopes off the table and heads towards you. You shake your head and back up. You bump into your friends and look at them, they just shrug with a smile and push you towards James.

He grabs your hand and pulls you onto the table with him. He twirls you as people whistle. The two of you dance and laugh as you have the best morning ever.

Once the song finishes James jumps off the table and holds his hand out for you. You take it and hop off, he gives your hand a quick kiss while the other three boys get down.

Sirius claps his hands and the tables to make room for a big square table in the middle.

Remus snaps his fingers and a huge dancing queen cake appears on the table. Peter whistles and sparkling candles fly onto the cake.

James counts down from three and everyone starts to sing happy birthday. Your cheeks turn red again, you never liked people singing happy birthday to you.

Once the song finishes and you blow out the candles, McGonagall clears her throat, surprisingly gaining most people's attention, "Let them eat cake!"

Suddenly, the cake is gone and everyone has a slice in front of them. James grabs the plate that is at his seat and takes some on his finger, then smudges it on your nose.

"Hey!" You grab your slice and take a small chunk, you throw it towards his face but he ducks and it smacks onto Sirius' hair, who was standing behind him.

"..."

"..."

The hall was silent as they glanced between you and Sirius.

"Ha... ha... you know, I- I think I left something in my room..." you say nervously, taking slow steps backwards. You turn around and try to rush out of the Hall, "See you later!"

"Where do you think you're going?!" Sirius chases after you, snatching his slice on the way. He catches up to you and wraps an arm around your waist to stop you. With the other arm, he smacks his whole slice onto your face and rubs it in.

He takes the plate off your face and steps back. You turn around and the boys grin, "Gotcha," he pats your shoulder. You wipe your mouth and eyes, then wipe your hands on your dress before remembering you have magic. You say a spell to get the cake off your face and dress.

James comes up with a good idea and sneaks around to some students, he grabs their cake and throws it across the hall at some other student. Laughs fill the room as everyone starts throwing their cake around in a food fight.

McGonagall glances at Dumbledore before using her wandless magic to make her cake slice fall onto his head.

His head slowly turns towards her, "Did you do this, Minerva?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about," she shrugs while holding back a smile.

As cake is being thrown, James goes to you and pulls you to him, kisses you as people wolf whistle around you. He rests his forehead against yours, "Happy birthday, sweetheart, I love you."

"I love you too, thank you for the best birthday," you whisper.

#nina writes 🤭💗 #james potter #marauders fluff #marauders fandom #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter one shot #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #peter pettigrew #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #alice fortescue #sirius black x you #remus lupin x you #peter pettigrew x you #marauders #harry potter marauders #marauders oneshot

[sunshinevanfleet]

the dress - s. kiszka

pairing: sam x reader

a/n: heyo! i have been so absent here lately i'm sorry!! i have a lot going on with work and have been dealing with the absolute worst writers' block. it took me forever to write this because my brain is just?!?! not working lol. i have like 0 inspiration. anyways, i'm here to feed the sammy girls and decided to write this. it's unedited so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry! ok love u<3

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

word count: 2.9k

summary: the reader decides to wear sam's favorite sundress around the house. he can't resist the temptation.

warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (m + f receiving), riding, etc.

A gentle breeze cooled your skin, the late afternoon sun finally beginning to sink behind the horizon. Your bare feet swished through the long grass of your backyard, the blades tickling your ankles as you padded back towards the house. There was a basket of flowers perched in your arm, picked precariously in order to adorn the center of your kitchen table. You were so excited– you and Sam had finally bought your own place–a house, at that–and you were spending every second you could perfecting each detail inside. These wildflowers, straight from the field behind your house, were going to be the perfect centerpiece to your antique kitchen table. 

Beads of sweat pooled on the nape of your neck and your shoulders; you spent the entire day outside, first planting your very own garden, then hanging fairy lights and curtains around the patio, organizing the furniture, and finally picking the flowers. While Sam was at the studio, you forced yourself to stay busy. You only had so many days left off of work, and you wanted to get each tiny detail right while you had the chance. Luckily, Sam was privy to your vision. When he was home, he was your special helper, allowing you to boss him around and make your dreams come true.

You smiled at the thought; he was being such a good sport. You reminded yourself to thank him for everything. His patience, his help, and most of all his willingness to make this place your forever home, at any cost. 

“Honey, I’m home,” his voice rang from the back porch, as if on cue, and your smile widened. You’d been waiting for his return all day; you missed spending every second of the day with him. Admittedly, you were a bit grouchy whenever he announced to you a few days before that he would have to return to the studio. The band was working on big things, and you knew they needed him. You tried your hardest not to pout at the fact that you had to share him. 

“Hi,” you greeted, dropping your fresh flowers on the porch as you approached him. You snaked your arms around his neck, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. “Missed you.”

“I missed you,” he mumbled against your lips. One of his hands snaked down your waist, over the curve of your ass, and gave it a firm squeeze. The fabric of your dress bunched up in his hand, and you giggled into the kiss.

“Watch yourself, Sammy,” you said, swatting his hand as you pulled away. “I’ve got interior design on the mind right now.”

He laughed, padding back into the house behind you as you brought your spoils inside. “I’ve got other things on my mind,” he mumbled, pressing against you from behind. He pinned your hips against the kitchen table with his breath ghosting over your neck. One of his hands trailed up your arm, fingertips brushing the skin gently before he slipped the tiny strap of your dress down over your shoulder. His calloused fingertips trailed over the sensitive skin of your clavicle, tracing down until it ghosted over your hardened nipple through the material of the dress.

A shaky breath came from your lips, and you pressed back against him. Your core throbbed as you felt his hard bulge pressing against you from behind.

“What’s got you all worked up?” you mused, breathless. Your eyes were closed, taking in the feeling of his warm body melding against yours. He held you in his strong arms, one hand pressed against your stomach and the other caressing your clothed nipple in tiny circles. A shiver trickled down your spine. 

You felt his smile against your neck, his teeth dragging against your skin gently. “It’s this dress,” he grasped the fabric, bunching it in his hand and slowly pulling it up. Goosebumps prickled your skin as he lifted the hem, exposing your bare legs inch by inch. “My favorite dress…”

“Can you let me finish what I’m doing, at least?” you asked, unable to mask the amusement in your tone. 

“I’m not stopping you,” he said innocently. 

“No, but you’re distracting me,” you gasped as he hiked the dress completely up. He placed a hand on your lower back, and pushed you forward over the table.

His other hand trailed over your bare ass, kneading the skin. “No panties?” You felt his breath fan over your core as he spoke, and you tensed. Your center clenched around nothing, and a smug chuckle tumbled from his lips. 

“Sammy–”

“Dirty girl,” he said. One finger dipped through your folds, spreading your juices around. He was taking his time, making your body tense as he barely touched you. “You’ve been waiting for me to come home and fill you up all day, haven’t you, pretty?”

You bit down on your lip, nodding at his words. It had been in the back of your mind all day; you knew he loved seeing you in sundresses, especially the little white and pink floral number you had on today. It was his favorite, especially paired with no undergarments. It drove him wild. 

“Words, please,” he mused, pushing a finger inside of you.

“Ah,” you squeaked, “yes, I’ve been waiting for you all day, Sammy.”

“There’s my good girl.” He curled his finger inside of you, just barely brushing against your sweet spot. You braced your hands against the table, wishing you had something to hold onto, something other than your precious table to dig your fingernails into. Strangled breaths left your lips as he touched you with impossible patience.

He already had you mewling and moaning softly with pleasure, your body tensed over the table. His fingers knew just how to work your body, all of the spots that made you cry out and see stars. But, he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. Where was the fun in giving you exactly what you wanted? His fingers were soon slipping out of you, strings of your arousal lingering on his hand as he pulled away. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quick to make you whine in pleasure. His mouth replaced his fingers, tongue delving into your pussy. He licked into you, his tongue dragging through your folds in long, slow strokes. Obscene sounds emerged from you, ringing through the empty house. One of his thumbs found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he worked you towards your release.

The metaphorical coil in your stomach began to tighten, your mind gone blank from everything except the feeling of him devouring you from behind. Your thighs trembled, his free hand having come down to hold your legs open for him. Ecstasy clouded your vision, the intensity of his tongue fucking you only growing stronger by the second.

“Sammy, I’m gonna cum– fuck, it’s so good…” you trailed, unable to form another word as your vision began to glaze over. Heat bloomed throughout your entire body, your limbs seeming to vibrate with the pleasure bursting between your legs. You were unable to move, a willing victim to the waves of bliss crashing over you, drowning all of your senses. Your throat was going hoarse with the cries of his name, your walls clenching around his tongue as he guided you through your orgasm. Another layer of sweat shimmered on your skin as he finally pulled away, hooking an arm around your stomach to turn you around.

He kissed you, his mouth and chin still coated in your release. You moaned at the taste of yourself, slightly tangy on your tongue. He grasped your face, his tongue delving in between your parted lips. You pressed yourself closer to him, grinding your center against his clothed bulge. He groaned against your lips, finally pulling away and meeting your glassy eyes.

“Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?” he asked, grinning. “So eager… You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Never,” you replied. You leaned in again, pressing your lips together desperately. You nipped at his bottom lip, swollen as you worked your mouths together for another second. Your chests heaved together, the both of you panting and worked up. “I need you,” you sighed as you finally parted, your foreheads touching.

“You can have me,” he said, “Take what you need, baby.”

Swiftly, you pushed one of the chairs away from the table. He took the hint, taking a seat with his legs spread wide. His bulge strained painfully against the thin fabric of his shorts, the outline of it making your mouth water as you admired him. You kneeled before him, hands trailing up his thighs, massaging the skin gently. His cock twitched in his shorts, a wet spot blooming from the tip and staining the fabric. A mischievous grin found your face. You pressed your lips against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, kissing and biting gently.

“God, you look so pretty on your knees,” he muttered, eyes following your every movement as you teased him. You smiled up at him, meeting his gaze through your lashes as you gathered saliva in your mouth and spit into your hand. You pushed your hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, and closed your fist around his length. A strangled moan tore from his lips as you stroked him with the faintest pressure. He throbbed in your grip, hips stuttering at your touch as you barely squeezed the tip of his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, Y/N, please,” he groaned. His dark eyes were hooded as he stared down at you. His lip was caught between his teeth, brows furrowed in an expression that was so beautiful and desperate that your walls clenched around nothing. The tiny whimpers falling from his lips were music to your ears, making your neck and ears flush hot as you watched him melt at your touch.

“Please?” you looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sight of it. 

He groaned, hips rolling up into your touch. His thighs trembled under your hand, holding them still. You tightened your grip around him. Slowly, you dragged your fist up from the base of his cock to the head, your thumb massaging the ridge just below the tip. An unrestrained moan burst from his chest, high-pitched and mouthwatering. 

“My poor Sammy,” you soothed, your free hand rubbing his thigh gently. “Can’t find the words, can you?” His cheeks flushed pink at your teasing, one hand running through his hair whilst he stared at you expectantly. He didn’t dare look away, little pants coming from his parted lips. Sweat beaded on his forehead. 

You batted your lashes at him as you leaned up, perched prettily on your knees. You trailed your hand up from his thigh to the waistband of his shorts. A second later, they were off, flung to some forgotten corner across the room. His cock sprung up against his stomach, the slick sight of it making your head spin. The tip was an angry shade of red, twitching as you teased it with your fingertips. Sam’s hips jerked, and his hands gripped the sides of the chair so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

“So eager for me, hmm?” you mused, blinking up at him.

He nodded, swallowing hard as he followed your eyes. Gently, your tongue darted out, tiny kitten licks against the head of his cock. He breathed sharply, the muscles in his legs clenching beneath your hands. “You’re torturing me, baby,” he groaned, every fiber in his being struggling not to grab you by the hair and fuck your face. Not that you would have minded.

You pouted, wrinkling your brow as you looked up at him. “I thought you liked it when I did this?” you asked, feigning innocence as you wrapped your lips around the swollen head of his cock. You swirled your tongue, the salty taste of him blooming in your mouth. 

“Fuck–” his voice was choked by the sound of his own moaning, ringing so needily through your big, empty house. “Fuck, can I touch you, please?”

You nodded, mouth bobbing around him as you did so. Without hesitation, one of his large hands gathered your hair into his fist, gently guiding your mouth as you sucked him off. A hum rumbled from your throat. The vibrations sent a tremor through his lower body, his hips rocking into your mouth enough for his cock to brush the back of your throat. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pushed down onto him, taking him even further in your mouth.

“Oh, you look so pretty, sweet girl,” he groaned, now rolling his hips into your mouth freely. He reached down to brush the tears off of your cheeks, loving the sight of you taking him so well in your mouth. He guided your pace on his cock, fingers cupping your cheek. Your hands held onto his thighs, nails pressing into the skin as he quickened your pace. 

He was close, you could tell by the higher pitch of his moans and the trembling in the muscles of his lower body. At that indication, you swirled your tongue more aggressively. His cock throbbed in your mouth and he hissed, the fingers tangled in your hair pulling you away. Strings of saliva dripped over your mouth and chin as you pulled away, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your face.

“As much as I want to cum on this pretty face, princess,” he ran a thumb over the mess on your swollen lips, “I need you to ride me in this dress…”

You grinned, licking some of the mess off of your lips as you stood. You spread your legs, straddling him in the chair. Arousal slicked your inner thighs, making a mess of the both of you as you reached down to position his cock at your entrance. He breathed sharply through his nostrils as you brushed the head between your folds, the heat driving him mad. A low sigh broke from your mouth as you sank down onto him, throwing your head back.

“God, you’re fucking tight–” Sam hissed. His hands brushed up your thighs, bunching your skirt up over your hips as he stared at himself entering you. His eyes followed the slick of your pussy sliding up and down on his cock, all of your juices pooling on his thighs. “Look at that pretty pussy taking me so well,” he sighed, lips parted as he panted.

You followed his gaze, your walls fluttering around him at the lewd sight. His fingertips dug into the skin of your hips as he helped to guide you, your pace steady as you fucked him. Already sensitive, his cock stretched your walls open, brushing your sweet spot unrelentingly. You rolled your hips against him, relishing in the feeling of him dragging against your insides. Pleasure tightened the muscles of your stomach, to the point where you were almost sore. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum–” you managed to stutter out, leaning forward to press your lips against his gently. He smiled against you, nodding as he pulled you closer to him. He was doing all of the work at this point, his strong grasp helping you lift off of him and sink back down over and over again. 

“Go ahead, sweet girl,” he coaxed, still holding your hips. “Make a mess for me, baby. All over my cock.”

A second wind seemed to find you, and you rocked desperately against him. You chased your orgasm, that delicious high washing over you in intense waves. Your legs cramped, but you refused to stop. His cockhead brushed against your sweet spot over and over, your head swimming as you continued your ministrations. His hunger for you mirrored your own, and you felt his hips twitching as his release washed over him. The feeling of his release spreading inside of you sent you over the edge, your mind tumbling into bliss as you rolled against him without abandon.

“Ah, fuck, baby–” his voice was muffled, shrouded by the ecstasy overtaking your senses. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good, milking my cock like that…”

A sound, half-moan, half-scream tore its way out of your throat as you reached the peak of your high. Your eyes rolled back in your head, barely aware of the feeling of him kissing and biting your chest, his hips slowly meeting yours as you rode out your climax. Your entire body ached as you came back down, sweating as you slumped against him in the chair.

“You okay?” He placed a kiss against your temple, his voice soft.

You nodded, one hand braced on his shoulder. “Got a cramp,” you laughed, trying to stretch your legs as you shifted off of him. Your body ached; you sighed at the feeling of his hand running up and down your back, caressing the skin gently. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up,” he said, helping you to your feet. Your legs shook as you balanced your weight, adjusting your dress. “Then, I’ll make you dinner.”

Your eyes lit up, a smile blooming over your face. “Maybe I should wear this more often,” you joked, already headed down the hall for your shower.

#sam x reader #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet imagine #gvf smut #gvf x reader #gvf imagine #gvf fic #greta van fleet #my writing

[poor-dead-birds]

‼️His facial expressions in this scene do things to me! Sexiest coke drip face on the fucking planet‼️

Kappa Headcanons

* Contains NSFW H/C's but also Fluff too*

*Contains use of substances (alcohol, weed and cocaine) and Dub-Con (due to substance use) and blood/knife kink*

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Fluff:

Kappa isn't a nice man, but on occasion he'll grab you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway back and forth with you as music plays.

He makes you native American style bead bracelets. They almost always match the ones he makes for himself.

"S'long as you're mine, gonna spoil you and keep those little wrists nice n' pretty... yeah, make sure everyone knows you belong to me..."

He gives the most amazing back and shoulder rubs. His callused hands feel so nice on your soft skin.

He steals clothes he thinks you'd look gorgeous in and purs compliments into your ear as you model them.

"Love the way you look in that dress sugar... such a pretty little thing you are..."

He'll get you high as a kite smoking with you and send you into giggling fits with corny jokes.

He really likes the doors and idolizes Jim Morrison. He makes you watch their music documentary with him over and over.

He lets you (and only you) braid his hair and put flowers in it sometimes. He makes you take it out before anyone sees though. 😓

NSFW:

He definitely snorts lines of coke off your tits and ass cheek! Shoving his tongue in your mouth after in a sloppy kiss, making it go numb.

He is so possessive, always leaving marks all over your body while he fucks you.

"Mhm, that's right sugar... Everyone's gonna know whose good little slut you are..."

He'll have you on top, cock filling your pussy up just right and take a hit from his blunt, grabbing the back of your neck and blowing the smoke into your mouth.

He will degrade and humiliate you until your brain is absolute mush and you're sobbing. Not giving a single fuck about your feelings.

"Such a needy little bitch, yeah? Got no brains up in there, huh? *he taps his finger to his skull* Just wanna feel this cock inside you... poor thing..."

He loves to sit you between his legs, completely naked and make small cuts in your thigh with his knife. He'll smear the blood with his hand, squeezing harshly and moan in your ear as his cock gets hard. Watching your pussy get soaked.

His hand is around your throat every chance he gets. Squeezing until your eyes roll back and your face is red. He tests how long you can take it before you pass out.

SUPER. SLOPPY. DRUNK. SEX. I'm talking incoherent, messy, blackout, mindless sex. But God, does it feel amazing!

"C'mon sugar... stay with me now. Can't have you missin' out on all the fun. Gotta make sure my baby feels real good..."

The praise that this man gives makes everything feel like love. It practically oozes out of his mouth and it's filthy. It's dirty. It's endless.

"That's right. Such a good little girl. Yeah, does everything she's told, huh? Such a good little fuck toy."

He will slap or grab your ass every time you walk by, sucking air in through his teeth and groaning, letting you know he's gonna destroy you later that night.

#rory culkin #culkin cult #kappa smut #kappa black mirror #black mirror s6ep3 #kappa headcannons #18+ content

[prophetic-hijinks]

Princessa ( a Luisa drabble)

“OOH that slit goes high!” Isabella declared in a mock scandalized tone. As Dolores squeaked and blushed, flashing her leg out from one of Elena’s lounge dresses a few inches too short on the bottom. Enjoying the tinkling sound of crystal beads colliding only audible to her. As the excited sounds of Mirabel’s voice echoed from the closet into the cave-like antechamber of Bruno and Elena’s bedroom.

Elena giggled from her place on the loveseat next to Luisa, as Mirabel brought a handful of dresses to lay on the bed. The trio cooed over the glamorous styles. Deciding which dress would fit whom, and who was going to go next. Of course, these styles are not ones any of the girls would ever wear in the Encanto. But a throwaway statement of the girls being welcome to borrow any dress had a very pregnant Elena nearly dragged to Bruno’s tower to play dress-up. Meanwhile, the seer decided to make himself scarce to ask Antonio how to mediate a serious conflict among the rats.

Luisa and Elena watched the happy proceedings as Mirabel disappeared behind the screen to try on a velvet green dress with faux pearls hanging on the shoulder. The dress she wore the first night Bruno saw her, and her life changed. Instinctively she brought her hand to her swollen belly, happy as can be. She would be unlikely to fit those dresses again, but it was more than a fair trade.

“Whoo!”, Elena exclaimed as she felt a kick. Luisa flinching at her side, immediately reacting with protective concern. Hands at the ready to help where no help could be given.

“It’s alright, I think their ears were burning. I was thinking about them.”

Then another kick gave her a start, and Luisa reflexively checked on Elena again. “Should I get Mom?”

“I’m fine Lu. I think the armistice is over. The twins are taking turns trading fire as wombmates”. The pun perhaps not hitting, as Luisa’s brown eyes didn’t drop a smidgen of concern after the joke.

“I’m really ok, I promise.”

“Sorry, I know it is normal it's just… you’re just so small”. Luisa trailed off almost apologetically, she had been reacting strongly to every kick all morning. Elena put a reassuring hand on her arm, as she leaned back to take pressure off her spine.

“No smaller than Alma was I have been told, and she had three. Besides we know for a fact everything will be ok”. Elena said gently waving to the glowing green tablet of her future family framed above the bed. A rectangle piece of emerald glass save for a small corner cut out to make their wedding rings. A promise for a future that was almost here.

Satisfied Luisa smiled, and they both looked back at the three girls. Mirabel was trying her signature dancing twirl, but the too-tight dress was not willing to accommodate. A clever seamstress, Mirabel on her own embroidered skirt dropped the waist to capture maximum twirl. Obviously glitz and glitter had downsides.

“I’m sorry I’m too short for you to wear my dresses,” Elena offered as she thought about the contents of her closet, and if anything could be used to help her share in this moment. But her mind was drawing a blank.

“It’s alright, I like my practical clothes.” Luisa countered, but Elena didn’t quite believe it.

Luisa’s room at the beginning portion functioned like a gym. A room full of weights and dumbbells that would make Hugo jealous. The balcony like entry, opening up to a beautiful vista of rocky mountains as strong and imposing as her exterior. But like Luisa, her true nature was hidden deeper. A childlike sweetness of a woman denied a proper childhood. Her bedroom full of soft fuzzy rugs, flower linens, family photos and drawings collected on the walls, sheer curtains hanging over her bed, and a pile of stuffed animals she was gifted over the years. Of all his daughters, and despite all appearances, Luisa was Agustin’s little princess.

‘Oh that’s it!’ Elena thought with excitement as she swung her legs up, using the momentum to vault her and her rotund belly forward out of the chair. The sudden motion caught Luisa at such a surprise, she didn’t have a chance to help the petite songbird stand before she was waddling like a petite penguin to her cavernous closet.

“Now it’s not ‘practical’ mind you,” Elena called loudly from the magical closet that was bigger on the inside. Before emerging with a green velvet box. “But I have something perfect for you.”

“When I was young I used to do birthday parties during the day, and lounge at night.” Elena said with a sheepish smile, As she opened the lid. "The dresses are gone, but I couldn’t get rid of this.” With a flourish, she revealed a shimmering costume princess crown. Delighted to see Luisa’s eyes widen at the treasure. “I am a little bit of a pack rat.” Elena said as she gently fixed the crown onto Luisa’s head, pulling her braid to cover the sides. “But perhaps that is why your uncle loves me?”, she joked.

“So beautiful,” Elena said stepping back to admire her lovely sobrina. “It’s yours if you want it.”

The quickness a teary-eyed Luisa stood to tower over Elena to envelope her in one of her signature bear hugs, did give Elena pause as to whether she would pop under that affection. But ever conscious of her strength, Luisa adjusted quickly and gently enfolded her tia in thanks. Before excitedly going to admire herself in the long mirror, the trio of girls chorusing “oohs and awws” as Luisa joined them.

With very little grace, Elena gingerly sat down to watch the proceedings. A tiny oof as she settled into place with a pillow shoved behind her spine.

“I wonder, do I have a little princess of my own?” Elena asked quietly, but a smiling glance from Dolores told her it was still heard.

A tiny kick came in response and Elena leaned back happily.

#drabble #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #elena ruiz #elena madrigal #prophetic vignettes #fanfics #encanto #family bonding

[levithestripper]

You’ll Always Be My Prince: Chapter Four—The Flowers

go to the previous chapter || go to the next chapter || back to the series masterlist

chapter summary: it’s been two years since the incident on driftmark. two years since aemond lost his eye and claimed the she-dragon, vhagar. since then, rhaella and aemond have begun to grow up. aemond has made leaps and bounds in his swordsmanship, whereas rhaella finds herself facing a foe not even he can protect her from.

chapter warnings: rhaella waters’ pov, creator chose not to use archive warnings.

length: 4.3k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: huge apologies for taking nearly eight months to get another chapter out! i hope it won't be that way in the future, but we'll see. i've written and rewritten this chapter dozens of times, and i've finally found success with this version of it. i hope you like it as much as i do! please let me know what you think!

ik i usually provide chapter warnings, but i don't want the tags to spoil the chapter! it's worth it i promise!

and a huge thank you to @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics for letting me include her oc alethia stahl in this chapter! i highly recommend you go check out alethia's story in woman of the watch!

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Helaena asks, holding up an elegant white dress over her head. Adorned with lace and embroidered flowers, it’s a grand wedding dress suitable for any noblewoman. “Do you see the beading along the middle, Rhaella?” The princess lowers the dress, exposing her face, vibrant violet eyes shining in excitement. 

Rhaella nods, looking the dress up and down. She covers her boredom and discomfort with a smile, not wanting to rain on Helaena’s parade. “Yes, Princess. Do you like this more than the last one?” At this point, the pair—well, Helaena—have been trying on dresses for no less than an hour, trying to find the perfect dress for Princess Helaena’s upcoming wedding to her brother, Aegon.

Helaena thought for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. The last one fits funny.” Without saying another word, Helaena stands. Ridding herself of her loose-fitting dress, she pulled the wedding dress on over her head. She doesn’t put it on properly, holding the waist taunt. She spins in a circle in front of a full-body mirror. “I like this one!” Helaena turns to look at Rhaella, who returns her gaze with a smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Rhaella hums, pulling her knees to her chest. The skirt of her dress slid down her bare legs, bunching at her slim waist. Now one-and-two years old, Rhaella’s no longer permitted to wear the tunics and breeches she prefers outside the Keep. Wearing them made her feel sick, her skin crawling and her stomach churning with every step she took wearing one. She does her best to ignore it, however. It doesn’t work very often. Helaena switches back to her previous pink dress, laying her wedding gown on a table at the other end of the room. 

“We must find you a dress, too,” hums the Princess with a smile, sitting with her legs crossed on the floor across from her. “It will be fun, Rhaella!”

Rhaella forces a smile. “You don’t have to do that; it’s your wedding; focus on you.”

“No, no. You’re my friend; I’ve got to take care of you, too!”

Rhaella knows Helaena means well, but her stomach can’t help but churn at the thought. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Helaena nods enthusiastically, grasping their hands within her own. “It’ll be fun! I want to hang out with you more. We’re cousins, but I hardly know anything about you.”

She stifles a chuckle. She had only started spending time with Helaena after Aemond expressed his worries over Rhaella being alone. Going into it, Rhaella thought she’d hate it but found the opposite. Assuming her cousin to be a quiet and rather uninteresting girl, Helaena proved a fascinating conversationalist if given a chance. “If…If you’re sure, then okay,” Rhaella sighs, squeezing her hands back. 

A knock sounded at the chamber door, and Helaena let them in. It was her mother, Queen Alicent. “Have you picked a dress, sweetheart?” she asks, hands folded in front of her. Helaena nods, standing. She picks the dress up to show her, smiling behind it. “It is a wonderful choice, my dear.”

“Thank you, Mother.” 

Alicent offers Rhaella a polite smile. It did not look forced but did not appear as she wished to converse with her. Rhaella returns the gesture. She turns back to her daughter. “It is nearly noon. Come for lunch when you have finished; your father wishes for a family meal.”

Helaena nods with a hum. Quietly, she slips the dress onto a hanger, handing it to one of her handmaidens. Another of her handmaidens helps Helaena into a fancier dress. It was still loose fitting, as the princess despised tight-fitting garments. The solid gold background has mini dark green diamonds dotted along it, her skirts reaching the floor. The previous handmaiden weaves two braids into Helaena’s hair. She threads both plaits into one, pulling them together to form a half-up, half-down look. “See you later,” Helaena says, waving goodbye to Rhaella as she leaves her chambers, handmaidens following.

Rhaella didn’t know whether to follow her or not. It’s clear The Queen did not view her as family, or else she would’ve spoken to them both. I am only a bastard, after all, Rhaella thinks. I would not be welcome there. Left alone with nothing but her thoughts, she left Helaena’s chambers, gently closing the door behind her. Knowing she doesn’t want to sit alone in her room feeling sorry for herself, Rhaella finds herself roaming the twisting pathways of the Keep’s garden.

The gardens of the Red Keep are vastly different from the singular garden within High Tide’s walls. High Tide’s garden has exotic plants, symbols of Corlys Velaryon’s many conquests. In contrast, the Red Keep’s many gardens were outfitted primarily with plants native to King’s Landing and the surrounding regions. The garden she found herself in—the royal one—was the fanciest of them all. Surrounded by flowering bushes and tall trees with multicolored leaves, she recalls a memory of her and Aemond here a few months prior.

“Do you like it here?” Aemond asked.

Rhaella looked up at him. Aemond had grown taller these past few months, shooting up like a weed where she had yet to grow an inch. They leisurely walked arm in arm, enjoying the peacefulness around them. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you like it here? Like, in King’s Landing?” Aemond’s tone implied there was more he wished to say but kept hidden within himself instead.

She looked up to the cloudless blue sky. “Most of the time. Why?”

Aemond sighed quietly. “It’s just…I’ve noticed that I’m your only company. I never see you spending time with anyone else.”

“I don’t really care for the others here. They’re either jerks or boring.” Rhaella doesn’t give an entirely honest answer. Even if she tried to branch out and make friends with others here, few are willing to speak with her, let alone become an acquaintance. 

Her words made Aemond chuckle, a smile spreading across his lips. It made Rhaella giggle as well. “You’re not wrong.” He knew there was more to the situation than what she said, but he had learned to pick his battles wisely.

“Why do you ask? At least, why now? It’s been this way for a while,” Rhaella countered, now looking him in the eyes again.

Aemond doesn’t keep her gaze. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.” Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, startling Rhaella. He gazed at the tall, flowered hedges in front of them. The flowers crawled up the hedge on thin vines, their blooms a vibrant purple, just like Aemond’s remaining eye. He plucked it from the vine and turned to Rhaella, tucking it behind her ear. “I don’t have as much free time anymore,” he said softly, voice laden with a subtle sadness.

She took his free hand within both of hers, his other hand busy brushing the hair from Rhaella’s face. “You don’t need to worry about that, Ae.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Besides, you’re a prince. It’d be strange if you did have free time.” 

Aemond nodded in agreement, chuckling softly.

“In a way, I have it better than you do,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oh yeah? How so?” He asked with a smirk as if daring Rhaella to prove it.

“Being a royal prince, such as yourself, you have all these duties and standards to uphold. Your life’s filled with noise, whereas I get to sleep past breakfast and stroll the halls in peace.” Her words scared away the looming sadness that had begun to form over Aemond as they both erupted in giggles.

Aemond placed his hand atop hers, squeezing it back. “I suppose you’re right, Rhae,” he said, a smile returning.

As they resumed their stroll, they soon found themselves at the end of the pathway. The path spat them out at the center of the garden. When faced with the heart of the garden, the winding pathways seem trivial, as if they belonged to some minor lord. The center expanded further than Rhaella could see, every inch flooded with rare vegetation and expensive plants, an obvious flaunt of House Targaryen’s wealth and decadence.

“Do you know the story of this place?” Aemond asked. Rhaella shook her head no. Aemond led them to a bench, sitting down as he began to tell the story. “After Aegon the Conqueror was crowned King, he returned to King’s Landing. At the time, the city was no more than a muddy army camp with a small town surrounding it. In his first years as king, Aegon built what would become this city. He couldn’t finish it, but his successors did. When Houses swore fidelity to King Aegon, many gifted him with extravagant plants and things like that. King Aegon’s successors planted many of them here, in the royal garden, to show those sworn to them that they cherished their gifts.” Aemond pointed to the flowerbed behind them, at an exotic-looking flower, the petals a rich blue. Rhaella twists around to see what he is pointing at. “See that?”

Rhaella smiled and nodded, “It’s beautiful.” She turned her head to look at him. “But what’s so special about that one?” she asked.

Aemond smiled back, unmistakably delighted she asked. “That was a gift to King Aegon from his Hand—Orys Baratheon—when he was named Lord of Storm’s End.”

“So?”

“So,” Aemond repeated, “It represents that the Baratheons and Targaryens have been friends since the beginning. Since before the beginning, even. Orys Baratheon came with King Aegon from Old Valyria to Westeros.”

“Yes, but what does that matter? Tons of Houses have their gifts planted here. What makes that flower special?” Rhaella asks, confused at the point Aemond was attempting to make. 

The pair sit correctly on the bench again, albeit facing one another. Aemond took Rhaella’s hands within his own this time. “It matters because you’re half Baratheon, Rhae. That flower,” Aemond gestured toward it with his chin, “symbolizes that you belong here just as much as everyone else.” He brought their faces close, his forehead pressed against hers. “I know it; you know it. Everyone else just has yet to see it. But they will. I promise they will.”

They sit together like that for a while, breathing the same air and existing in the same space. Rhaella eventually pulled him in for a hug, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

Rhaella hears someone shout behind her, pulling her back to the present day. She found herself sitting at the same bench she sat on with Aemond, the flower behind her in full bloom. Birds chip from their perches in the trees, chatting with pretty songs. The sky was clear and bright, just like that day months ago. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Aemond waving at her from a balcony overlooking the garden. Seeing him, Rhaella races closer to the balcony so neither would have to yell at the other.

“Rhae!”

“Hey, Ae! What’re you doing? I thought you were having a family lunch!” she calls up, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun that beat down on them. 

Aemond leans against the railing, gazing down at his friend. His silver hair has grown longer in the past years, the ends brushing the middle of his chest. He was beginning to grow out of his childlike, boyish face and into that of a handsome young prince. Seeing her friend grow up before her eyes stirs something within her that Rhaella would rather ignore. Aemond grins at her as he speaks. “Father was called away for a small council meeting!” His arms were crossed across the railing, giving him an air of confidence. “You busy?” 

She shakes her head no.

“Well, me and Aegon have to train with Ser Criston in the courtyard, and I thought you might want to come watch. I’ve gotten better since last time!” A lock of hair falls from behind his ear, fanning out like a beautiful silver curtain. 

“Oh yeah?” Rhaella grins back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah,” Aemond returns her sarcasm with confidence. 

Rhaella crosses her arms over her chest. “Guess I’ll just have to come watch you then, huh?”

“Guess you gotta,” he hums, teasing her. “See you there, Rhae?”

She nods, humming back. “Can’t wait to see you fall on your ass, Ae!” Rhaella says with a giggle, disappearing underneath the balcony. 

Rhaella makes her way to the courtyard Aemond spoke of. It is the same yard Aemond trained in years ago with his nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys, so Rhaella had little trouble getting there. Climbing the stairs to the balconies surrounding the courtyard, she sits at one of the many terraces bordering the yard. The area wasn’t crowded, surprising her, as many ladies of the court found watching the two Targaryen princes spar peak entertainment. Maybe I’m just early, she thought. It would be nice not to deal with swooning women, though.

Aegon appears in the courtyard first. He has cut his hair shorter in the past weeks, most likely in preparation for his upcoming wedding. He, too, had grown taller, now towering over Rhaella. She doesn’t interact with him often, but when she does, he isn’t as crude to her as he was in the past. Perhaps his newfound responsibilities have begun to force maturity onto the boy. Aemond enters right after, spinning his sword by his side. He wore a special eyepatch with two straps to keep it in place as he fought. He and his brother have since graduated from wooden swords to dulled metal sparring swords. 

Ser Criston came out last, wearing his arming doublet and thick breeches, arming himself with a sparring sword. He calls the boys names, gaining their attention. The brothers stand beside each other in front of the knight, Aegon showing far less enthusiasm than his brother. Aemond and Aegon are roughly the same height now, which means Aegon can’t look down on his little brother anymore. “Today, we will continue working on swordplay and evasiveness. You both have improved tremendously, so I will stand aside during sparring, assessing your progress silently. Notes will be afterward, as I want you both to evaluate the situation and correct your mistakes without my input molding your decisions. Understood?” Both boys nod. Criston backs away, his body parallel with the weapons racks scattered along the sidelines.

By now, the balconies and connecting walkways have flooded with people, predominantly noble ladies and their handmaidens. Down in the courtyard, a few lords watch from the sidelines. Rhaella can’t make out most of the lord’s faces, save but one. Ser Harwin Strong. He hasn’t been seen at the Keep for many a year for reasons unknown to Rhaella. Beside him stood a woman Rhaella had never seen before. Leaning over the railing for a better look, the woman wore her long, dirty blonde hair loose, letting it fan across her strong shoulders. She wore a simple—but undoubtedly elegant—blue dress. Rhaella can’t make out the details of it, but she can make out accents of green and red throughout the fabric. 

The colors of House Strong. Ser Harwin’s house, she thinks. Rhaella leans back in her seat. Are they married? Wouldn’t I have heard someone talk about the wedding of the son of a prominent House like theirs?

Footsteps sound behind her, and Rhaella turns to see Helaena walking up the stairs. She sits beside her with a smile, hands smoothing out her dress. The clanging of swords echoes off the walls, paired with the occasional pained grunting or a frustrated yell. Rhaella glances at the stranger next to Ser Harwin, then at Princess Helaena. 

She would probably know something of her. Rhaella shifts in her seat, facing her body toward Helaena. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

Helaena’s eyes glitter with intrigue. “Mhmm,” he hums with a nod. 

“You see Ser Harwin? Down there in the training yard?” The princess nods again. “Who is the woman next to him? I’ve never seen her before, and even from up here, I can tell she’s not from the South.”

Princess Helaena leans closer to the railing but maintains a respectful distance from the edge to prevent dizziness. When her eyes land on the woman in question, Helaena mumbles to herself. Rhaella caught parts, but what she manages to piece together doesn’t mean much to her.

She tries again with—what she thinks—is a simple question this time. “Is she Ser Harwin’s lady-wife?”

Helaena responds quietly, “I’ve heard whispers about her from my handmaidens. Rumors say she washed ashore one day, and Ser Harwin rescued her.”

Just as Rhaella moves to respond, a searing pain erupts within her, unlike anything she has experienced before. She imagines this is what battle must feel like. A white-hot blade piercing her tender abdomen, slicing the muscles up her thighs and across the tops of her slender hips. Her hands grasp at her belly, desperate to make the unending pain stop. A wave of nausea washes over her, adding another layer of misery.

Helaena looks at her with panic, then with a sympathetic understanding. She calls over her handmaidens, who were chatting quietly amongst themselves and the other ladies-in-waiting. Helaena speaks to them, but Rhaella could not hear her, as the pain blinded her to anything else. Two handmaids help Rhaella stand, her legs shaky as the jelly on her breakfast toast. Once Rhaella is safely down the stairs, the remaining ladies do their best to dab away the bloody splotch left behind on the expensive cushioning.

The handmaidens rush Rhaella to her chambers and into the washroom. They carefully help her disrobe. Her skirts are soiled with blood, the same with her inner thighs. Rhaella lets the women do as they please, allowing them to manipulate her like a marionette doll with its strings cut. The women speak to her, asking her questions and if what they’re doing is okay, but Rhaella doesn’t understand them. As if her head were underwater or as if they were speaking a language she didn’t know. She felt herself guided into a bathtub. The warm water feels good against her skin. One of the women asks permission to help her bathe, and Rhaella mechanically nods consent. Her voice sounds distant and far away as if this were only a bad dream Rhaella hopes to wake up from soon. 

The gentle touches of the handmaidens help to rouse Rhaella from the trance she had retreated into. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears as her chest heaves from the residuals of a hyperventilation fit she doesn’t remember falling into. She feels dried tear tracks on her cheekbones. The pain hasn’t ceased but has let up slightly, allowing her to rebuild the strings of self-sufficiency. Still shaking, she grips the sides of the tub. Her voice warbles when she finally manages to speak. “What—What’s happening? What’s wrong with me?” she asks, voice cracking with unshed tears. 

“My name is Joanna, m’lady,” says the handmaiden, giving her a higher-ranking title than she deserves. “You’re just fine, okay? Nothing’s wrong with you.”

Rhaella nods helplessly. “Then what—what’s happening?” 

Joanna kneels beside the tub, holding Rhaella’s trembling hand. She strokes her knuckles soothingly. “Has no one taught you of womanhood?” Rhaella shakes he head no. Joanna looks at her with a tenderness a mother would give her daughter. It fills Rhaella with a sense of safety, almost. “Well, when a girl gets to a certain age, our bodies change from that of a girl to a woman. What marks that change is the first appearance of their moonblood.” As she explains, she continues to comfort Rhaella, rubbing her arm. “Another mark of this change is beginning to grow breasts.”

The more Joanna speaks, the more Rhaella wishes to cry. Unable to hold back her emotions, tears roll down her cheeks again, running along the dried tracks already there. Joanna hushes her, guiding the young girl to her bosom and cradling Rhaella as she cries. “Shhhh, shhhh, it’s okay, you’re alright, honey. You’re alright,” she soothes, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. She continues this until her tears stop. Snagging a towel from the shelf behind her, Joanna helps Rhaella out of the bath, wrapping the fluffy towel around her. “Let’s get you nice and dry, yes? That sounds good.”

Rhaella feels a discomfort so great that she knows no words to describe it. It felt as if she was being destroyed from the inside out. Joanna reassures her that nothing is wrong, but deep down, Rhaella knows something is wrong. Yet, despite everything, Rhaella has never felt as safe as she does now. It does nothing to dull the flames of her discomfort, but it helps Rhaella stay present.

Dressing went by in what feels like a blur. Rhaella wears a simple chemise with the comfiest socks the handmaiden could find. Joanna teaches how to line her undergarments with a cloth to prevent bleeding through her clothing, and Rhaella thinks she understands the concept. The other handmaiden left at some point prior, but Rhaella had yet to notice. There is a knock at the door, but apparently, it is merely a courtesy knock as the door swings open without waiting for an answer. 

On the other side stands Queen Alicent.

Unlike this morning, the Queen looks at Rhaella with the same sympathy Princess Helaena and the handmaiden Joanna look at her with. As Alicent enters, Joanna stands and curtseys; the Queen acknowledges her, then dismisses her with a wave. The handmaiden pulls the door shut behind her, ensuring it doesn’t slam.

Rhaella watches Joanna leave, then turns her gaze to Alicent. She watches her sit beside her on the end of the bed. She feels small in comparison. “I apologize for my appearance, Your Grace,” Rhaella mumbles, staring down at her lap and sniffling, unable to hold her gaze. 

Cautiously, Alicent brings a hand to the small of Rhaella’s back, rubbing up and down her spine in an attempt to comfort the poor girl. “Oh, honey, there’s no need to apologize. I’m not here as your Queen; you need not fret. Speak plainly, child.”

She allowed herself to relax, leaning into her side as she’d seen Alicent’s real children do. Rhaella sniffles, nose still running from the recent crying session. “Thank—Thank you,” she stutters out.

“How are you faring, honey? Helaena’s handmaiden told me what happened.”

Rhaella shrugs. “I don’t…I don’t know. Everything hurts and feels wrong. Like this shouldn’t be happening.”

Alicent continues to rub her back. “The first one is always the worst. How much did the other handmaiden explain to you?”

“That it’s called a moonblood, and how to keep from bleeding through my clothing.” She looks up at Alicent from her place nestled in her side. “And that I should expect…” Rhaella doesn’t finish her sentence, simply gesturing towards her chest area and hoping she’d understand.

She nods. “And you know what this means?” Rhaella shakes her head no. “It means you’re becoming a woman. Your first moonblood symbolizes the Gods preparing you to have children one day.”

A shiver rushes over her. Being only two and ten years old, Rhaella had yet to consider having children. Her mind races at the thought. Bastards like me don’t get husbands from significant houses. I don’t even know if I want a husband! It seemed impossible to her. It is something only trueborn ladies with noble husbands do. “What if I never have children? What if I don’t want them?” she asks in a panicky voice, looking up at Alicent.

Alicent sighs before responding. “It is not up to us to decide if we have children. We must put faith in the Mother Above to bless us with the gift of life. Whether she does or not is up to her and the path she has set us on.”

“I pray she never blesses me with children, then,” Rhaella grumbles and rolls her eyes. 

Rhaella’s irreverence doesn’t faze Alicent; she has grown used to hearing it from Aegon. “Perhaps you are yet too young to understand.” Her words sound patronizing, but something tells Rhaella she doesn’t intend them to. “A piece of advice: fill a stocking with barley and warm it over the fireplace; it will help ease the pain.” With a final squeeze, Alicent makes her way to the door, bidding Rhaella farewell and good luck.

With the Queen gone, Rhaella is alone for the first time since her moonblood began. Her whole body ached. She can’t get comfortable since every time she shifts to try and get a semblance of comfort, thick clots of blood rush from her. Part of her wants to cry again, but no tears come to let her. Gingerly sliding off the bed, Rhaella waddles to the washroom, too terrified of leaking to walk normally. Replacing the linen lining to the best of her abilities, she discarded the soiled cloth in the tub to wash later. When she finally returns to bed, her legs feel as if she’s run to Highgarden and back. Crawling into the middle and curling in on herself, Rhaella found a bit of lasting solace in the coolness of the sheets. It doesn’t take away from the pain, but it helps her feel as if what the handmaiden Joanna said had some truth to it. It is barely mid-afternoon, but Rhaella feels the claws of slumber grasp hold of her. Despite the sun that filters in through the curtain-clad window, she falls asleep quickly, hugging a cold pillow to her chest.

taglist: @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics, @criminalskies, @hyojae99, @poisonedsultana, @schniiipsel, @moonlighttfoxx, @losstboi, and @eleniblue.

#series: you'll always be my prince #oc: daereon targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond one eye targaryen #aemond kinslayer #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x original character #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x oc #hotd fanfic #hotd series #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fandom #hotd fandom #game of thrones #got #got x oc #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #got fanfic #got fandom #game of thrones fic #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse

[eva-knits12]

Valentine's Day with CE characters

Steve Rogers:

Valentine's Day is also James' birthday.

It's James' first birthday, so you, Steve, and James celebrate.

James gets to have his first birthday cake.

Steve gives you flowers, chocolates, and a gold bracelet with James' birthstone in it.

You get a cute card from James, with his tiny thumb prints forming a heart.

Steve also has his thumbprints forming a heart.

You take the thumbprint hearts, and make a customized necklace with both thumb prints on it.

When it arrives, you wear it above the locket with James's first ultrasound in it.

Steve cooks a nice, dinner for the both of you.

James has a chicken nuggets with some mashed potatoes.

You and Steve have meatloaf with mashed potatoes, peas, carrots and pearl onions, and gravy with fresh baked rolls.

Steve and James gave you so many reasons to celebrate Valentine's day.

Steve ends the night by drawing you a nice, relaxing hot bath, and he joins you.

This was the best Valentine's day ever, because you got to celebrate it with your two favorite boys.

Steve kisses you lovingly.

Ransom Drysdale

Like James, the twins will also be one.

Ransom made sure to get two cakes, both saying Happy Birthday on it.

Harlan will be coming later to celebrate the first birthday of his great grandchildren.

Your brother will be coming later.

Harlan is dressed in a handsome suit with a nice, gray tie.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Harlan's suit just doesn't work without his tie. He's being really fussy about it," says Ransom.

Katherine is dressed in a red dress with white tights and black Mary Janes, with a pink cardigan.

"Sorry, sweetheart, Katherine's dress doesn't work without the cardigan. She keeps crawling away from me," says Ransom.

Eventually, Katherine crawls towards Ransom, when she sees Harlan with Ransom.

Ransom hired a professional photographer to not only get a family photo, but to also get photos of the twins now that they both turned one.

The photographer arrives, and sets up. This is just easier because of your MS, and it saves a trip, and Ransom doesn't have to load in the stroller, which was custom made so that you could take the twins on a walk, and you could also get some exercise.

The photos are taken, and a few days later, you send some of the photos to your dad back in Michigan, a photo to your brother and his family, and one to Harlan.

The twins dive right into their cakes after they have some pasta.

Ransom gives you a journal of all the things he loves about you.

You give Ransom a nice, shawl collar cardigan that he loves.

"Now I get to wear dad sweaters", says Ransom.

"I love you, my favorite sexy Daddy," you say.

Ransom lips crash onto yours.

The twins got a lot of toys, and books.

Ransom reads them a bedtime story while you soak in a nice, hot bath to help soothe your aching body. The twins fall asleep.

Ransom helps you out of the tub, helps you get into your pajamas, and you both fall asleep.

Andy Barber

Andy took the day off to volunteer in Joy's class to that you two can help with the Valentine's party and card exchange.

You're five months pregnant with Penelope.

Joy is wearing a red sweater dress with white tights, and red boots.

Andy got you flowers and some diabetic friendly chocolates.

The other parents make sure that you're eating and also taking care of yourself, seeing as how you were recently diagnosed with type I diabetes.

Andy will be taking you and Joy out to dinner later, and it will be Joy's first time at a restaurant that doesn't have a placemat that involves crayons, a paper placemat, and a kids menu.

Where Andy is taking you is an upscale restaurant that is family and kid friendly, otherwise, he would have your brother babysit Joy.

When you both take Joy home, Andy helps you get dressed for dinner, and he wears a suit. Joy is still in her outfit from before.

You two have a nice dinner. Joy has Swiss steak with mashed potatoes, and you and Andy have Swiss steak with baked potatoes and seasonal roasted veggies.

Joy tries some of the veggies.

The dessert menu has several diabetic friendly options.

Joy has a chocolate cupcake.

Andy has tiramisu and you have chocolate fudge pudding cake.

You, Joy and Andy arrive home.

You help Joy get into her nightgown.

Andy and you get into your pajamas.

Andy and you end the night in a lovemaking session, then go to sleep.

You and Andy shower together the next morning.

Colin Shea

You're in bed, sick with a cold the entire day.

Colin takes care of you the entire day.

Chicken soup? Done. Hot tea with honey and lemon? Done. Serenading you with songs on his guitar? Done. Watching movies with you? Done. Chicken soup by the bowlful? Done.

He even feeds you the soup.

Colin watches you sleep.

Too bad, because he really wanted to treat you to a nice dinner.

But snuggling in bed when you're not busy sleeping is a nice way to spend Valentine's Day, too.

You took care of him when he had appendicitis.

Any excuse to spend the day in bed together is what Colin looks forward to.

He makes up for the dinner later.

During the day, he showers you with cards, songs, chocolate, and even gets you a stuffed bear that looks like Captain America that says "Get Well Soon".

You need to be sick more often because you had Colin taking care of you.

Jake Jensen

Jake has an amazing night planned.

It begins with Jake ordering Chinese because he tried to cook for you.

The dinner, which was a simple dish of chicken, mashed potatoes, and mixed veggies was somehow burned, cold, and somehow, the smoke alarm went off.

Cooking isn't Jake's forte.

Jake should stay out of the kitchen.

The food arrives, and Jake dishes it out.

He lights some candles, and turns off the lights.

You two have a candle lit dinner, so there's that.

He's all flustered, but he manages to propose.

You say yes.

Your engagement ring is a simple, round solitaire in a white gold setting.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur.

You both play Scrabble, then play Mario Kart.

The next day, you two just play Monopoly, and then Animal Crossing.

You can't wait to start wedding planning.

You two just want to enjoy this for a while.

Frank Adler

Frank and you don't really make a huge deal of Valentine's day.

You two go out for a pizza, and bring Mary along.

It's a pretty low-key Valentine's day.

You both watch a movie with Mary.

The next day, the three of you spend time doing a puzzle.

Then, you three of you play Scrabble.

Frank and Mary spell something out for you on the Scrabble board.

They both spell out "Will you marry me?"

You say yes.

Your engagement is a simple solitaire in a white gold setting.

It's the best Valentine's day because you got to spend it with the man you loved, and his daughter.

His daughter has also fallen in love with you.

Johnny Storm

After your dinner, you and Johnny are busy burning some calories.

You come, and Johnny follows.

You and Johnny have only been engaged for three months, but have been together for three years.

You conceive your son Jake on this night.

Johnny showers you with gifts. You get stuffed animals, flowers, chocolates, even blank cards professing his love for you.

You feel bad because you got him a card, and his favorite candy.

You even cook him his favorite meal, which is chicken parmesan.

You make up for it, because on your anniversary, you give him a journal of everything you love about him, memories. and even a scrapbook of your favorite couple moments.

At the end of the journal and the scrapbook is an ultrasound photo.

Johnny kisses you lovingly.

"I can't wait for this next stage, and I can't wait to be a dad. You'll make the most amazing mom ever."

Next year, Johnny dresses Jake as Cupid, and helps Jake fire arrows at your heart.

Each arrow has a message on it, giving another reason why Johnny loves you.

It's so cute, fluffy, and romantic at the same time.

You love Johnny even more.

You both get married at Disney World later that year.

#chris evans #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #andy barber #jake jensen #frank adler #johnny storm #chris evans characters #valentine's day

[misskittyhart]

Chapter 2 Loud And Crashing All Around

The room was cleared of tables and the band was expanding turning the Silver Magnolia into a dance floor. Which happened every time Kitty was done. She sighed happily moving into her dressing room getting changed into something more casual. The dress she was wearing had so many beads on it, that it was quite heavy and cumbersome to move in. She was mindful to be as quick as she could since Alastor was still in the club.

She chose a lovely dark dress flowing dress that came to her shins, and she opted for smaller heels. This would have a lovely flow to it for dancing, and since she was still feeling the heat from the stage lights it was a welcome breezy outfit.

Quickly she looked at herself in the mirror making sure she was still looking good. She always had to keep up her appearance since she was the draw for the club. Moving her hair into a partial updo, she adjusted the big magnolia flower clip in her hair. Nodding lightly in approval of her appearance she turned heel and left her dressing room.

Alastor waited at a small table to the side of the room watching as they transformed it into a dance floor. The buzz and energy in the room was exciting. He waited patiently for Kitty to return. He was quite amazed out how wonderful she was. Her voice was incredible and there was such a commanding presence she had. There was a sense of pride and elegance about her on that stage. He had to admit she was quite alluring. The little vixen definitely caught his attention, which wasn’t easy.

Kitty came back into the main room scanning it carefully looking for Alastor. She hoped he hadn’t left yet. He noticed her looking for him and put his hand up with a small wave. His signature grin plastered on his face. She smiled brightly at him and quickly made her way through the crowd. Before she could get far some one grabbed her wrist firmly.

Alastor had a glint of anger in his eyes seeing a man grab her suddenly stopping her from coming towards him. Kitty jerked her head over her shoulder to see who was bold enough to grab her.

“There you are cher you were quite gorgeous tonight. Have you thought about my offer?” The man spoke to her. He was tall and thin and had slicked back blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He wasn’t unattractive and was dressed well. He smelled like money.

Kitty jerked her wrist free a look of rage crossed her eyes before she had to calm herself. She had to keep it light and professional. “I had said last time, Jonathan, I am not interested in marrying you.”

His hand grabbed her waist pulling her towards him. “Why not? You’d have it easy. I have tons of money to take care of you.” He huffed. Kitty could smell the alcohol on him. She scowled as he grabbed her waist.

“I said no.” She said venom dripping in her voice.

Jonathan pulled her to him. “I’m not asking nicely any more. You will be mine.”

Before kitty could push off of him, Alastor was there. He spun Kitty in a circle pulling her to him. “There you are darling~” he said in that honey toned voice. Kitty was a little surprised by his sudden moves. “Do not touch my girl.” Alastor said he was grinning but there was dangerous look in his eye and his voice dripped with a sudden malice. It made her skin burst into goosebumps. He was acting so possessive. She looked up at him playing his game shaking off the goosebumps.

“Oh there you are darling~” she said touching his cheek playing the act. As much as kitty wanted to tell Jonathan off she couldn’t do it in the club. She had to always be professional.

Alastor smiled softly curling one of her stray hairs around his finger. “Come on darling I want to dance.”

Jonathan scowled and stormed off. He was seething with rage and jealousy. Which only made Alastor’s grin widen. Kitty sighed softly feeling glad Alastor was here, other wise there would have been a scene. He released her.

“Thanks….that could have gotten bad” she sighed

Alastor grinned down at her, “I couldn’t very well let a beautiful woman be in distress~”

“That guy is the worst. That’s the third time he tried to get me to marry him. He’s always drunk. I heard he’s an industrial baron. He’s a real piece of work with his staff too I heard. He does not like the word no.” She scowled

Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he committed this to memory. He smirked “well let’s not let that oaf spoil our night. I’d love to dance Kitty.”

She smirked at him, “I could do that.” With out a moment to hesitate he grabbed her hand spinning her to him. He danced with her his hand on her waist and his hand holding hers as he led her into the Charleston. The jazz was loud and made the room shake with music. The energy was hot and heavy. The air thick and humid as people danced and partied like tomorrow would never come.

He smiled down at her “You were stunning you know.” He said softly his cheek close to her ear. “You command that stage with great grace and power. You held the audience captive while you sang. I have to say that’s quite alluring~”

Kitty felt the closeness of him in this moment was making her a little light headed. Normally she wouldn’t take an offer to dance, but he was nice. He did help her out again. So she let him have this.

Men in the room looked at Alastor with jealous glances. This only fed his ego and made his grin widen. He loved the attention. Having this power over others was certainly a rush. She was in his possession and she was coveted. That alone made this s splendid high.

It seemed like time was dragging forever as they danced. Kitty closed her eyes getting lost in the sound of the loud music. It was so loud she could barely hear anything else. She came to and opened her eyes looking over Alastor’s face; his eyes were burning into hers.

“See something you like?” He grinned teasing her.

She laughed softly shaking her head. He was quite handsome. His bright charming smile only added to his air of confidence. He spun her and twirled her outward before drawing her back and close to him. His breath against her ear “you really are quite the lady you know? Just my type. Powerful, prideful, elegant and simply stunning” he teased speaking into her ear.

Kitty shivered. Being so close to him made her feel flushed. Just who was this man. Why was he so enthralling? She felt lost in him dancing until she was out of breath. Her legs feeling exhausted. She started to pay attention to him more. She felt like she smelled something slightly metallic on him. She knew that smell. By his ear was the smallest fleck of dark red. Blood.

“Did you cut yourself shaving?” She asked him honestly. His eyes flashed with a dark look for a brief second his smile still on his face.

“Why do you ask, Cher?” He smirked

“You have a little blood right here.” She said touching the spot by his ear.

“I could ask you the same~” he whispered into her ear touching her crystal earring. “My, my…don’t tell me. You are quite the mysterious and entertaining woman” his voice was low with a slight drip of malice to it.

Her breath hitched in the throat. She had blood on her earring? Panic set in, and suddenly she knew why she was allured by Alastor. She felt his essence radiating that of bloodlust. Something she knew all to well. She stayed silent

“Tch aw, cat got your tongue?” He teased his eyes burning into hers. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have quite the nasty habit~” his hand slipped down to her thigh. “You think you could hide that knife from me? Naughty girl you are~”

Kitty froze her eyes flicked to his. A look of danger burning in her green eyes. Alastor laughed loudly at her. “That’s right~ I know what you are.” He whispered.

She stopped dancing with him. She felt her heart drop. He knew what she was because he was the same. Putting two and two together she stared at him.

He laughed grinning “I think we should have a word”

“I agree.” She said

They moved off the dance floor the tension between then was heavy. What were the odds? Kitty felt sick. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen now. She’d never been caught before.

She led them to a private balcony room reserved for rental. She closed the door behind her locking it. Their gazes met like some unspoken contest of dominance.

He broke the silence “who would have ever guessed you’re a dark, twisted little thing.”

Kitty stared at him “I could say the same. No wonder you’re so charming. It’s an act .” She said “now what. You going to kill me?”

He laughed loudly looking at her a wicked look in his eyes, “heavens no! I don’t hurt women. Now disgusting, wicked men who hurt them.” He grinned the darkness in his eyes was frightening. The blood lust and sadistic nature to them made her blood run cold. “Tell me kitty, what do you like to do? What prey does the magnolia starlet take?”

Kitty moved to the side pouring two glasses of whiskey. She never uttered these things to another soul. “Men who abuse women.” She said looking at him

“Ah a martyr! Seems we aren’t so different after all. I have to say you are quite fascinating” he grinned, “and why do you feel the need to hunt men down?”

She drank her whiskey and set the glass down. “I was in a very abusive arranged marriage.” She started. He furrowed his brows but kept smiling. “I ran away from him when he came to New Orleans to gamble. I’ve been here over a year chasing dreams.”

“That’s not all your chasing is it, Kitty?” He laughed. He was hiding his seething rage that she was abused, and her husband seemed to still be alive. A glint a sadistic glee was in his eye as he looked at her.

Kitty scowled at him. She walked over to the balcony and opened the doors wanting cool air. Her skin felt like it was on fire. The cool air felt good right now. Alastor watched her illuminated by the moonlight.

“You really are a fascinating woman” he said looking at her, “I think we’d make quite the pair.”he joined her on the balcony. His hand grazed hers.

Kitty froze moving away from the balcony moving away from him suddenly. “I’m quitting this life style.” She said firmly.

He turned to face her, “oh come now Kitty. You can’t quit once you start. The high is more powerful than any drug c and you know it. The pure pleasure as you catch your prey, toying with them, playing games, and finally ending their lives. You know you’re addicted to the feeling of watching the life fade from their eyes.”

Kitty looked over at him biting her lip hard feeling blood drip down as she cut her lip. She was conflicted. This was a life style she wanted to leave behind, but she couldn’t deny the intense feeling of blood lust.

“Oh what a lovely look you have in your eyes. Simply enchanting~” he laughed loudly. The radio in the room started to glow faintly in the magic eye receiver as if it was trying to pick up a signal.

He out stretched his hand to her, his figure framed in moonlight. He looked like a beast that had been set free from its cage. He was panting his breath visible on the night air, a wild, sadistic look in his eyes. He was salivating, looking more beast than man. “Join me Kitty. We could have so much fun, Cher!” He laughed wildly.

Kitty felt trapped, if she said no he’d expose her. The offer also was tempting to the darker part of her. How many wicked men could they punish and clean from society? How many woman could she save from her fate? Her eyes glowed with blood lust as she stared at him. He grin wildly coming closer to her.

“Come with me, cher. We could clean this city up.” He said taking her hand in his he lowered his head kissing her knuckles, “and you can be mine.” His eyes were full of a possessive energy. “No one could ever understand you like I do.”

Kitty was wrestling with herself on what to do. She felt he had caged her. He grinned wickedly at her knowing he had check mate. She was trapped. This filled him with glee. He’d claim her yet. He was eager to possess her.

Kitty took his hand.

His laugh rang into the night air.

I win. He grinned

#Spotify #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin art #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[tiyawnyana]

growing up on pandora pt. 3

my favorite trope (besides enemies to lovers), childhood friends to lovers! (human girl x neteyam)

warnings: underage kissing, underage relationship, slightly suggestive but nothing happens yet

•spider is 17, I am almost 17, neteyam is 16, kiri almost 16, lo'ak 14 almost 15

•neteyam had insisted that I join him on a flight. he told me to dress lightly, or bring extra clothes, and he packed extra blankets.

•we walk to his ikran, where he helps guide me on petting it, it chirps and rumbles low in its throat, and he helps lift me onto it after he hops on. he has me sit in front of him, has one hand on my waist the entire time.

•he flies us around for a little while, before landing us right by a small lake and waterfall. he brings me to a secret gap behind the waterfall and I'm beyond amazed, beautiful glowing crystals are found along the walls of the cave and he grins in victory, knowing I'd love it.

•I end up wanting to grab one, but not wanting to break any out of its homes (weird, ik) so I leave it (but neteyam comes back later on)

•we had decided to swim around a bit, splashing and giggling, before we sat in the grass, gazing up in the clouds as birds/any flying animal soared past

•we laid side by side, talking about anything and everything. Eventually he turned to me and gazed at me, before tugging my hand into his. The moment didn't last long before his dad called him in through the speaker in his ear, so we got ready to go, he ended up wrapping me in a blanket, insisting on keeping me warm

•we flew home near the forest, he had lightly taken my hand, leading the way and walked me back to my home. I turned to thank him, smiling up at him and he caressed my neck again before leaning down and kissing the top of my head and my temple, running off to his parents

•my birthday came up again, i was turning 17, and Norm did his usual lovey dad thing where he threw a big party (not that many navi would come, but it was the thought that counted), he made a pandora friendly cake and had learned how to make some navi culture fabrics with Mo'ats guidance

•the sully kids had joined, tuk and kiri pulling me over to dance and have fun. Tuk gave me a flower crown and kiri gave me some flowers and a top she had made herself. (A skin tight near crop top, looking more navi mixed with what she knew I was comfortable with)

•neytiri had arrived briefly, gifting me my own bow with Jake, lo'ak and Spider had fetched a new plant for me with of course a prank of a bug being in the plant before they ran off to where they have food

•neteyam had shown up a bit late but in time for the impromptu cake, and at the end of the party he gifted me another bracelet and some intricate hair beads, this time with the glow crystals from the cave, three crystals surrounded by beads and little carved flowers. He gently and carefully put a braid in my hair, having practiced with kiri and fastens the beads in (kiri approves of his work)

•that night, after the celebration and after eating dinner everyone dispersed, going to their homes and settling in for bed. Neteyam walked me back to my home and followed me in after I insisted on showing him some data.

•I took off my mask, handing him a new breather, and quickly moving over to my screens, explaining the differences in biology of some plants and how they can be used for different illnesses.

•after i ramble for a few, he hands me a box, insisting I open it and inside is a beautiful necklace, an arrowhead shaved down to not be as sharp but framed with beads, smaller glowing crystals, threads and a leather base. (only this time, he knew what this meant. he had spent the whole week gathering the materials, making this perfect as he needed it to be.)

•I'm smiling, thanking him profusely and hugging around his waist, I turn to him and ask him to put it on for me.

•he fastened the new necklace around my throat, the arrowhead just barely gracing my collarbones. He turns me around before whispering "beautiful"

•I blushed but quickly turn around to look in a mirror, inspecting the necklace and commenting about the beads and how nice they feel. I hear neteyam take a deep breath through his mask before walking towards me, he turns me around and cups my cheeks before leaning down and kissing me

•I hold his hand that covers my cheek, lightly kissing back not knowing what to do

•he backs up, smiling shyly before he disconnects from me completely, I'm silent, not knowing how to react before he apologizes, turning to leave and goes towards his home. I snap out of it and book it outside, taking a deep breath and grabbing his arm, catching him only a few feet outside where no one can see

• he turns and jumps in shock at the fact I'm not wearing my mask, trying to tug me back to my home before I lean up to his hunched form, tug on his neck and tug him down to kiss me

•he freezes before kissing back, hands going to my waist and back, the other cupping my face.

•I gasp lightly after his tongue licks into my mouth, before he picks me up by my waist and walks me into my home, he puts me down, shutting the door and resetting the oxygen. I take a few deep breathes, steadying my heartbeat before he stalks over to me and tilts my face up, leaning down and kissing me again, angling my face up and sideways to kiss me deeply, licking into my mouth. He grips the back of my neck, hand lightly gripping my hair and the other gripping my hip

•neteyam lifts me up, hands gripping my thighs before he moves to sit on the couch in my study. I'm on his lap, thighs on either side of his so I'm slightly taller now, he leans back and smiles breathlessly before tugging me down into a kiss again, this time its softer and slow, he grazes his hands down my sides and I sit fully in his lap

• he grins into the kiss before breaking it, cupping my face and kissing my cheeks, forehead, temple, whispering how happy he is

•I cup his cheeks, smiling softly and tracing the marks in his skin. he leans into my hands and wraps his arms around my back, holding me close, he leans down to kiss my shoulder lightly, nosing over the necklace

"you have no idea how long I've wanted this, ma' (your name)," he whispers, kissing so soft along my shoulder.

I sigh happily, leaning my cheek against his head,"I believe I can guess, my love," I lean and kiss his temple," you've no idea how happy I am."

he grins against my shoulder,"as am I."

•neteyam nuzzles his face further into my neck, I wrap my arms around his neck and lean against his head, kissing his braids and trying to calm myself down. my chest presses to his, he chuckles as he feels my racing heart

•he pulls one of my arms down to get better access, kisses my neck lightly, going down my shoulder before going up my throat, teeth grazing lightly enough to have me releasing a breathy moan

•he exhales against my neck, arms tightening slightly before he asks if he can lightly mark me, like a hickey. I nod, quietly whispering yes and he kisses around, licking down my neck before he sucks a hickey under my jaw and ear. He bites it afterwards and breathes in deeply, says how I always smell like his favorite berries

•he leans over to kiss me again, hand going to my jaw and thumbing over the mark he gave me, this kiss is softer than the others, more intimate

• it lasts a few moments before he pulls back quickly, startling me as he responds through his tech to his dad

•he groans, sighing and glancing up at me and smiling sheepishly, telling me he has to go home

•I tell him it's ok, getting up and he follows suit, we straighten ourselves out and I'm making sure he looks presentable

•he nearly goes to the door before he turns around and darts to me, leaning down to kiss me again, cupping my face again

•he backs off and I'm giggling, blushing and pushing him out the door. He turns one last time and kisses my cheek, then quickly goes home

•kiri comes by the next morning, wanting to go up the mountains and meditate with me. She wakes me, pulling my blankets off of me before she shrieks, seeing the mark on my throat

•she panics, thinking it's an illness, trying to drag me to her grandmother but I freak out, calming her down and assuring her it wasn't anything bad, pink in the face out of embarrassment

•she calms down and we go off to the mountains above us, tuk ends up following us and sits with me, playing with my hair while we chat

•after a little while we got hungry and went off back home, running into neteyam, spider and lo'ak, where kiri starts teasing spider and neteyam walks over to me, hand cupping my neck, thumbing over where he knew his mark was and grinning to himself (kiri sees this and sees me blush, she then puts it together and gasps on air, choking briefly and coughing while Lo'ak cackles in the background. I'm patting her back, asking what's wrong and Kiri brushes it off, saying it's nothing) (she ends up keeping it to herself, thank eywa)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im so happy to be able to write again give me more reasons to keep writing my love for neteyam

also go read part 1 and 2!

tags:

@heesoftiefreak @msjae

#neteyam smut #neteyam #lo'ak #avatar imagine #avatar #avatar the way of water #spider avatar #norm avatar #kiri #kiri sully #jake sully #neteyam fic #neteyam fluff #neytiri #tuk sully #tuk #avatar twow #Spotify

[lamaisongaga]

        FASHION CREDITS: JAZZ & PIANO SHOW 3.0

Lady Gaga finally returned to Vegas to continue the final 12 jazz & piano residency shows, and brought out an entire new setlist and costumes! Make sure to check out the other looks here and here.

The fashion was put together by Tom Eerebout and Sandra Amador with assistance by Kayla Manjarrez and Gianni Catalina.

The show also came with a handful of new visuals, including this one of LG enjoying a round of poker while wearing a dress Marilyn Monroe herself would approve.

The red sequined plunging stunner with halterneck, column skirt and flower belt detail is from Rodarte's Fall/Winter 2020 collection ($1,827).

In the same visual, she wears this absolutely divine plush black velvet column dress with deep nude illusion mesh panel and rows of pearl necklaces from Russian designer Kamilla Purshie’s Spring/Summer 2024 collection.

Let's get to the show! A label I've been eyeing for some time ever since being loved by the likes of Taylor Swift and Kelly Rowland is Taipei-based Nicole + Felicia who whipped out this fun beaded fringe mini dress for their Bridal Fall/Winter 2020 collection that any showgirl would love.

She topped it off with a new Arturo Rios Faux Grass white feather showgirl headpiece 

Dita von Teese, if you please!

The Always Love You crystal-embellished silver hoop dangle earrings ($396) are made by Laruicci...

Shop:

Laruicci “Always Love You” Earrings ($396.00)

…while the Jimmy Choo metallic silver Anouk stiletto pumps provided the finishing touches.

Lady Gaga then devoured in this custom Prabal Gurung rose gold sunburst pleated silk lamé gown with hand-embroidered crystals and ostrich feather-trimmed cape.

Both her Hyperbola rhodium-plated hoop earrings with crystals in different cuts ($600)...

...and matching Hyperbola open cuff are created by Swarovski.

Shop:

Swarovski "Hyperbola" Earrings ($600.00)

The look was perfectly accentuated with these Christian Louboutin So Kate pumps coated in pink satin!

This was one of the, if not THE look most of you have been flooding my message inbox about.

LG stunned the Vegas crowd (and us) wearing a custom couture Rose Blossom metallic plissé gown by recently-gone-viral designer Robert Wun, whose been part of her wardrobe since 2013!

The silver-tone mixed crystal flower linear drop earrings are by I.N.C. International Concepts exclusively sold at Macy's.

The perfect shoe to complete the red looks of the show are by Christian Louboutin, who created the super fun Hot Chick Psychic metallic red leather slingback pumps ($852).

Shop:

Christian Louboutin "Hot Chick Psychic" Pumps ($852.00)

Another fun Robert Wun moment was this full look based on his Spring/Summer 2023 Haute Couture collection which went viral!

Signature peplum corset top in a bonded white satin, enhanced with silk taffeta ruching detail on the bust and lace-up back with matching large stole. Paired with a low-waist technical wool skirt with asymmetrical slit pleating details in anthracite.

Styled with a black & white 3D-printed headpiece with stripped coque feathers and long black gloves.

Hot, hotter, GAGA! Our girl twirled around the stage rocking a custom Garo Sparo fiery red showgirl beaded fringe bodysuit dress with hand-stoned crystal pattern and asymmetrical hem, inspired by old Bob Mackie pieces!

If you look closer, you can see that inbetween her fingers shines the Swarovski Hyperbola cocktail ring ($400).

Shop:

Swarovski "Hyperbola" Ring ($400.00)

Hell-o! Gaga brought out the best of Vegas' spirit appropriately decked out in the master of sexy dresswear: Zuhair Murad. And yes, this is the first time!

LG selected a sparkly fringe number fully embroidered in gold sequins and crystals of various sizes from the Lebanese designer's Fall/Winter 2022 Haute Couture collection, inspired by mystical arts, from Tarot and astrology to horoscopes and palmistry, to dispel the concerns of an unsettled age through the allure of their symbols.

She wore this augmented plummet shawl on stage, which was custom-made for her by Christian Cowan!

"Each ostrich feather plume was individually hand dyed to the warm tone of her exact Haus Labs shade of foundation, and curled to achieve a more dimensional effect before being embroidered individually by hand to a crinoline base also custom dyed to be her exact warm tone- all done in-house by our New York Atelier"

One of Gaga's most stunning Vegas-worn headpieces to date is another one-off-one bespoke Arturo Rios! This time: gold lamé leather orchid bouquet with large crystals peeking out between the leaves and buds.

She finished off with her previously-worn Jimmy Choo Anouk metallic gold pointed-toe pumps!

The finale look of the show sees Gaga wearing a bespoke Topo Studio NY plush black silk velvet gown with attached tails to the wrists, embroidered with over 400 cosmic crystals.

The fun feather headpiece with crystallized cap was custom-made for her by Binata Millinery.

For this look she wore Jimmy Choo's Romy black patent leather pointed-toe pumps.

#Kamilla Purshie #Prabal Gurung #Nicole and Felicia #Topo Studio NY #Garo Sparo #Robert Wun #Rodarte #Arturo Rios #Binata Millinery #Swarovski #Laruicci #INC International Concepts #Christian Louboutin #Jimmy Choo #Zuhair Murad #Christian Cowan

[papasbaseball]

Terzo x Reader (Candid)

+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING Pairing: Terzo x F!Reader (Prime Mover) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Dagger used to cut for ceremonial purposes. Situational change of mind. Summary: You're taken away on your way home one day. Now you're in a strange castle and people are calling you Prime Mover. What's a girl gotta do to get out of a place like this. Word Count: 6,135 AO3 Link

Your tears were ruining the dress, if you could call it that. The gossamer shift did almost nothing to hide your form, and what little it did was thanks to its midnight hue. Even though it was sheer, when you clasped your breasts through it, you could tell the fabric was more expensive than anything you'd owned back home. You winced at the thought of home, picturing your little sister's face and how her small arms wrapped around your waist only a day or two ago when you'd left for work. She was gone now and so was home, taken away on your walk, back to this drafty and frightening place.

The stonework of the dressing chamber and corridors suggested that you’d been taken to a castle, or at least that’s what you thought since you’d never seen a castle before. Another draft ruffled the silk tapestry of the demonic goat creature that covered the one wall of the chamber. Its hands pointed one to the sky and one to the ground. Your skin prickled and you slid your hands away from their protective covering to the heat under your arms. The tears continued to fall, rolling down the gossamer onto your now-hardening nipples.

“Don’t cry,” said the lady dressing you. Her black and white religious garments were a sharp contrast to your own lack of clothing. She placed a veil attached to a comb in your hair. Flipping it forward, you could no longer see the tears running down your face in the ornate mirror, but they continued to flow regardless.

“I want to go home,” you’re voice broke.

“You should feel very honored to have been chosen by the Dark Lord to be the Prime Mover. A lot of our sisters are envious of you.”

“I don’t know what that means. Please let me go home. Do you want money? I can give you money.” You tried grabbing her arm to beg, but the veil impeded your actions. The action held about as much weight as your bargaining offer. Your clothes and empty purse had been whisked away as soon as you’d entered this prison. The warmth was quickly being sapped from your useless exposed fingers, so you resumed your heat-conserving position.

“When you get to the altar try to remember to answer any questions with ‘I will’ and ‘I do’. His Dark Excellency will offer you some wine. Drink some and then offer the wine back to him. The ceremony shouldn’t take long.” She brought forth some beaded backless slippers from the dressing table, offering the right one up for you to slip your foot into.

“What if I refuse?” you said, slipping your foot easily into the doeskin lining. The left slipper glided on as easily as the right, and you shifted your feet to point a little straighter, comforted by the little bit of skin that was covered up.

“Omega,” the woman said, turning to the hellish creature that guarded the door, “when I leave, please make sure she doesn’t run off. Imperator will have your head if she does.”

The creature offered a hideous low growl in return, thwacking its gray spaded tail against the flagstones. Truthfully, it looked human, all limbs in the correct amount and places, but the tail and the clawed hands gave away its distorted nature. You pulled your arms closer to your body at the thought of it removing its mask. Angling yourself away from the door, you favored your gaze towards the stained glass window.

The unholy sister — for she must have been to consort with such beasts — continued preening at you, fluffing the veil and shift, pinning dried flowers through the veil to your hair, spraying you with perfume that initially made you wrinkle your nose and then seemed to set you at ease. This went on for what must have been several minutes, for every time she did something you were certain it would be the last thing only for her to go back and pluck at you again. At last, she took a step back, eyes darting back and forth as she scanned you from head to toe.

“You’re ready. There’s one last thing.” Bustling off to the oak armoire behind you, the unholy sister produced a black velvet cloak on a thick hanger. Unprepared, she flung it over you, and you dipped a bit under its weight. Slowly the gooseflesh of your arms receded and you stood a little straighter. “Papa Emeritus Terzo will remove it from you when the time comes for you to give yourself to him.”

Any warmth provided by the cloak fled your body. “Please. No,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Omega, watch her,” the sister reinstructed, “I’ll come to get the Prime Mover when they’re ready.” Quickly, she slipped out the door, the sound of the lock clicking when it had been shut.

Pulling the velvet tighter around your naked body, you looked to your last companion, one of the demons that took you from your old life and home. The longer you looked the more your blood pounded in your veins, bubbling the words up and out of your mouth. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Quiet,” the ghoul said, or at least that’s what his struggled demonic sounds seemed to say. If he wasn’t capable of speaking, perhaps he could take instructions.

“I want to go home. I want my clothes back. Go bring me my clothes.” The creature looked stupid enough that you could perhaps boss it around like a dog with whatever authority being Prime Mover held.

Instead, it just growled back at you, tail thumping the wall like a whip. “No.”

“I’m the Prime Mover, you have to do what I say.” You puffed your chest out, crossing your arms under the cloak.

The demon shifted towards you, tail swinging with each step. You looked to the window, wondering how high up off the ground it was. Omega descended on you, your footsteps catching in the pooled folds of the cloak. It caught you by those terrible hands that felt like talons, the boney vice wrapping around your neck. Your beaded slippers barely touched the carpet as he looked up at you with those cold eyes. His mouth moved, but the sounds it made were inhuman hisses like a dead record player. The blood pounded back to your head as your feet hit the ground. “Vessel,” his voice grated.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he’d just said when the door lock clicked. It was the unholy sister, returned.

“It’s time,” she said. “Omega, go get the other ghouls, and don’t forget the dagger.”

“We were very fortunate to have found the Prime Mover,” Sister Imperator said, the black and gold china teacup clinking as she set it back in its saucer. She glanced around the room, Terzo pretending to be interested in one of the many liturgical titles on her bookshelves. Secondo had draped himself and chasuble over the sofa near the bookshelves, puffing contentedly on a cigar, gaze fixed on their eldest brother, Primo.

“It is a shame we didn’t find her sooner. Now she will have to suffer inexperience and incompetence,” Primo muttered to his steepled fingers, sinking lower into the velvet armchair.

Snapping his book shut, Terzo strolled over to where Primo brooded opposite Sister Imperator. “Being older doesn’t make you better in bed,” he said, bending down to his level. “I found your Viagra in the medicine cabinet.” Terzo’s smirk was uncontrollable as Primo whipped around in the chair, eyes wide in contempt.

“You need to keep out of things that aren’t yours, peste,” he said, pointing a gnarled finger at Terzo.

“Yes, but I needed to use the bathroom. It’s not my fault all your bottle labels are so interesting. So much Rogaine too.”

“Enough, Stronzino,” Secondo said sitting up.

“Scusa,” Terzo bowed, “I didn’t know the Rogaine was yours.”

“You need to get serious: you have a duty to carry out tonight. You are the one to help bring forth the Antichrist. You need to be prepared.” Secondo jabbed the smoldering cigar in his direction, ash falling on the black and gold Turkish rug.

“I fuck the girl. Maybe sex is difficult for you, but it seems simple to me.” Terzo mimicked fucking the air, setting his voice to a falsetto saying, “Oh your Dark Excellency! Just like that! I’m so happy I get to fuck you and not your ugly brothers! Oh! Oh! Oh!!!”

“And you’ll finish inside her, sì?” Secondo said, taking another drag.

“I’ll finish wherever I damn well please,” Terzo laughed, “Her tits, her ass, her face. Everyone looks better when they’re wearing my cum.”

Imperator clanged the china down hard on the table next to her. “You will finish inside her, Stronzino; this is not a joking matter. If you don’t get the Prime Mover pregnant I’ll have you demoted to a cardinal. It’s taken the ghouls years to track her down. If you can’t finish the job I’ll find someone else who can.”

“At least if I’m a cardinal I can go see Copia again. You sent him away to study, but we all know the truth: that you banished him so he wouldn’t be tainted by us, by me. Your golden calf.” The air had been sucked out of the room, the only sound was the sizzling of Secondo’s cigar, paused halfway to his lips.

“If I demoted you, you would not see him,” Sister Imperator said, ice seeping from her voice.

“I’ll find him when I get there. You can’t stop me once I’m in Florence.”

“If you were demoted, Copia would be next in line to be Papa.”

“He’s not a true Emeritus,” Primo cut in. “The rules state that-”

“I make the rules,” Sister Imperator stood from her chair, towering over the eldest of the brothers. She marched over to Terzo and skewered a manicured nail into his chasuble. “You will bring forth the Antichrist tonight. I don’t want any funny business. So far you’ve treated this job like a joke, Stronzino. I’ve noticed and the other Clergy have noticed. Nations will not fall before a clown. This is your last chance. You get her pregnant or I’m sending you to Florence.”

She turned to address the two older brothers. “The same goes for you. Maybe all your years put together can knock some sense into him. Any kind of funny business and you’ll be shipped off as well… and not together.”

The oaken door to her office slammed with thunder when she left. The two older brothers turned to Terzo.

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” Secondo said.

“That old bag needed to hear it. I’m sick of walking on eggshells around her. She should have just stayed in Florence with Copia if she was going to walk out of our lives like that.”

Primo got up and placed a gentle hand on Terzo’s shoulder. “I miss Copetto just as much as you, but you’re risking our lives here at the ministry.”

Terzo shrugged the fraternal hand off of him, stalking off toward the wall of windows that overlooked the Ministry courtyard. The grounds, though darkened by the blanket of night, were still noticeably well-kept thanks to Primo and his gardening ghouls. Hadn’t it only been yesterday that he and Copia played amongst the cold stone statues?

“I’ll count to thirty and you hide, okay Copetto?” he told the boy in the surplice.

“Okay, but Stronzino where am I supposed to hide?” Copia asked scrunching up his face.

“I can’t tell you, otherwise I’ll know where to find you.”

“Copia!” Sister Imperator called from the archway. “Copia get over here right now!” She’d come to get him. She was always coming to get him.

“Just five more minutes!” Copia called back.

“Copia, I will not tolerate any backtalk. Come do your daily studies or I’ll add 30 minutes to them.” She stood there, hands on her hips, waiting for the small boy to come running.

Copia looked up at Terzo, swiping tears from his unpainted eyes. “Can we play tomorrow? I got to go. I always have to go.”

“Go on, Copetto,” Terzo said, giving the sniffling boy a quick hug, one that was returned with a greater ferocity. “We can play tomorrow. The statues will still be here.”

The statues were still there the next day, but Copia was not.

“Terzo,” Primo said, “you should be getting ready. The hour approaches.”

“Sì, let's get this over and done with. Tell Imperator that I will be in the chapel soon.”

Terzo adjusted his miter and brushed imaginary lint from the black silk chasuble. They had been specially commissioned decades ago for this day, two woven lovers entangled on the front, consummating their sin within the black flames of hell. The pleats from where it had laid in its preservation box still faintly creased the front, despite all the siblings' best efforts to remove it. Sister Imperator would surely blame him later for them.

“Veniat Lucifer, accipiat vas suum,” Nihil’s voice muffled through the doors. As they broke open, Terzo closed his eyes as the familiar scent of the incense flooded him and the chapel from the censer swung by Secondo. The only source of light was the half-melted black candles that chuffed smoke along the pews and flighting up to the veiled altar. Spotting Sister Imperator in the front row, he walked toward the altar, slowly rolling his footsteps as to appear gliding and as intimidating as someone of his office should be.

“Luciferum veni. Accipe sponsam tuam,” Nihil chanted.

“Accipe sponsam tuam,” the Siblings filling the pews echoed. Passing them, Terzo spotted at least three sisters softly crying, and several more holding each other’s hands in emotional support. A smirk twitched the corner of his lip as he brought his focus back to the altar and his responsibilities.

Nihil stood in front of the navy and gold damask veil, a smile close to pride creasing his painted face as his youngest child stepped up to the other side of the lectern that held the crumbling Book of Satanic Rites. It was a rare treasure, that smile, hardly ever bestowed upon his children, but such a sweet gift when it was bestowed.

“Place your hands upon the text,” Nihil instructed Terzo.

Doing as told, Terzo placed his black suede-covered hands lightly on the decaying tome. The embroidered pentagrams on the back glimmered in the candlelight like the thread had been spun from actual gold. Nihil turned back, grabbing the stone ceremonial dagger from Omega.

Nihil held the dagger just above his eyes. “Semen tuum pariet Antichristo. Novas tenebras afferetis super hac terra. Patriarcha huius ecclesiae, hoc tuum est officium. Do you accept your responsibilities?”

Terzo looked to the first row where Sister Imperator sat, glaring him down. No funny business. The words echoed in his mind.

"I do," Terzo said, not taking his gaze off the old woman.

"Take, then, this blade. It is a symbol of your virility, of the phallus of mankind: penetrative and sharp, capable of slaughter and destruction. With it, you will spill the blood of the Prime Mover and yourself symbolizing your dedication to the cause of bringing forth the Antichrist to walk the earth.” Nihil handed the rough unpolished dagger over to Terzo.

Terzo bobbed the dagger up and down a bit, surprised at the weight of it. It probably weighed about as much as a full communion chalice, much more than the typical athame used at weekly Black Mass. Quickly picking the fingertips of his left glove off his hand, he discarded the suede covering and advanced forward to the curtain, knife in barehand.

“Unholy goddess,” his voice echoed just loud enough for the first row to hear, “give me your hand so that we may be joined together as one.”

The flames crackled loud as he stood there, waiting for the Prime Mover to reach out through the veil. A few siblings coughed, the silence becoming more and more apparent. Surely she had heard him?

He cleared his throat. At last, shoved through the veil with great force, was the nude arm, trembling and gripped tight near the elbow by a ghoul. The fingers twitched, palm quivering as he noticed even the gossamer dripping from the wrist wavering like the flames of the candles smoking up the chapel. That haunting hand, restrained so as not to flutter away, possessed him. His own unknowingly trembling hand tore back the curtain.

A frightened girl. Despite all his quick wits and quips, it was just now striking him how ludicrous the thought was that the Prime Mover would be one of his own devoted and loyal congregation. Laying awake at night, he’d always dreamt that it would be the lust-filled gaze of some Sister of Sin looking up at him while she sucked him off. Clad in cloak, A secretive nun. The words played in his head as he reached forth to remove the hood and veil of the one it had taken so long to find.

Her eyes were that of frightened prey that had been ensnared, his for the taking. They were puffy and the whites had gone bloodshot red. Rosy cheeks glistened wetly in the candlelight. Dragging the bare pad of his thumb across the tear-stained cheek, he felt his blood start to boil.

How many people will you hurt?

Keeping his gaze as compassionate as possible, he lowered his voice to an imperceptible level, enough that she would have to read his lips to make sense of what he was about to say. “Stay calm. This will be quick. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Quick thinking had him grabbing the flighty arm first, the blade biting into her palm producing blood and a wail. Then slicing his own palm, he smothered the cuts together, mingling the flowing red.

“Una pro Antichristo!” he exclaimed, raising the shaking arm with his for the congregation to see. The crowd erupted in praise and applause, reveling in the moment they’d all joined the Ministry hoping to see. His eyes shifted back and forth, waiting for the peak of excitement as siblings kissed each other and hugged, some of the Prime Mover hopefuls fainting, and then he seized upon it.

“Come with me now,” he whispered into her ear.

“No,” she said, trying to wrench free of the bloody grip.

“Trust me, you don’t want to stay. I can help you escape.”

His eyes shifted once more, landing on Sister Imperator who squinted, apparently distrustful of his secretive words. He didn’t wait any longer than that, putting on a smile and dragging the girl out from behind the altar and down the aisle. Sister Imperator stood and grabbed his arm tighter than the ghoul had to the poor girl he was now pulling out of the chapel.

“The ceremony is not finished,” she said.

The rage that danced under his skin tempted him to punch her, but he satisfied himself with a lick over his teeth and a chuckle. “You’ll forgive me. The Olde One has struck me with the sin of selfishness. Such beauty I am not feeling inclined to share right now. Excuse me.”

“Let go of me!” you said, wrenching your arm free from your captor. They hadn’t even told you his name, and already he had maimed you and, from what you’d been able to gather, was planning to impregnate you.

“Keep your voice down,” he said, heaving the door behind him.

You could feel your color running down your face, melting into the ubiquitous flagstones, as you saw the black wooden bed, bedecked with a plush red velvet duvet that pillowed like it was stuffed with clouds. Unable to bear the sight you snapped your head around to see the curtains whipping by the window. A drop from this height would be less painful than whatever these freaks had in store for you if your burning and dripping palm was any indicator of things to come. Your feet were moving before you could think the rest of those terrible thoughts through.

“No!” he hoisted you from behind and threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing and tumbling as if you were a rag doll. Flying to the window he fastened the bolt of the stained glass, the flapping of the curtains hushing to a quiet.

“You can’t keep me here!” The velvet duvet tangled with the gossamer of your gown, the sounds of netting softly ripping as the collar of the dress tugged at your neck, pulling you down into the softness of the bed.

“You’re right: I can’t,” he said, removing his miter first, then chasuble, folding the fabric in rough quarters and tossing it over an armchair. You were struck by his now plain appearance, just how soft he was built. Edges of jaws and shoulders were not quite as sharp and intimidating like a divine being built by the gods. If he had been just a regular guy back at a party in your hometown, you might have even approached him with some sort of confidence.

Rolling up his sleeves, he sauntered over to the bed, the springs lightly creaking as he sat down. “But I don’t think you’d like the feeling of being torn apart by the ghouls either. Can I see your hand?”

Immediately, you pulled the wounded hand closer to your chest, guarding it with the other. “You’re going to hurt me again.”

“No, dolcezza, that part of the ceremony is over. I’m sorry for startling you like that. I would be sorry about the cut, but someone was going to do it; be glad that it was me. May I please see your hand? I just want to see how it needs to be dressed.”

You searched his face for sincerity. The cut throbbed again and you realized that wherever you were they probably didn’t have tetanus shots lying around. You hesitated as you stretched the hand out to him. His hands gently took hold of your fingers, the other cupping the bottom to aid in rotating it in the dim lighting of the bedroom.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Let me get un antisettico and some wraps. Your skin is ice, cara. I have some pajamas over in that armoire,” he said, nodding to the wooden cabinet. “Why don’t you get changed and I’ll be back? There’s a privacy screen over there if you wish.”

The pajamas were just where he said they would be, a soft black flannel that had your shivering legs running to the privacy screen to put on. The cloak had been easy enough to remove, but the buttons that lined the back of the dress were a different story. You bent your arms to the best of your ability past the first five buttons, but couldn’t quite get the sixth.

“Is everything going okay back there?” he asked on the other side of the screen.

“I’m stuck.”

“Do you want me to come help you?”

Stomach flipping, you chewed the inside of your lip. Having him undress you was the last thing you wanted, especially with the implications of what was supposed to happen in that smokey infernal chapel. The gooseflesh on your skin rose again without the cloak. “Yes.”

You turned to face the corner where the privacy screen met the wall. The thought of seeing him seeing you almost naked, save for the gossamer, curdled your stomach and made you want to curl inwards like a small bug. You stilled yourself as you felt his hand briefly touch your shoulder before going about his work undoing the numerous buttons.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he said, undoubtedly trying to fill the silence of undoing the tedious amount of buttons that ran down the dress.

“I was kidnapped. Those monsters shoved me in a van on my way home from work,” tears pricked your eyes anew as you thought of your little sister, waiting for you at home watching the clock on the stove as the minutes ticked by from when you should have walked in the door. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

He stopped undoing the buttons. It surprised you when you heard a small break in his voice as he said, “I’m no stranger to that feeling,” before resuming his work.

“What could you possibly know about being kidnapped? Aren’t you the head of this group? That’s what your hat means, right?”

“No, I don’t know anything about being kidnapped, but I hold as much power as you, dolcezza. I have lived here my whole life, but I am not free to leave either. We are only permitted to leave on Ghost project business.”

“Have you ever tried to leave?”

“Have you ever tried to fight a bear? No.”

You were silent after that. It had been a foolish thing to assume. This was probably a cult, so of course he wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Still for being a cult member at least he was being nice to you.

“Nobody even told me your name.”

“Stronzino Emeritus Terzo. It’s more of a title really.”

“Well, what do your friends call you?”

“Most aren’t familiar with me enough like my brothers are to call me Stronzino, so I am just Papa or Terzo to ghouls and clergy.” He finished the last button and stepped back to the other side of the privacy screen.

You shrugged off the shift letting it crumple to the ground before pulling on the pajamas. The ghouls, or at least you think that’s what those hideous creatures are called, took your underwear when they’d dressed you for tonight. Hopefully, he didn’t mind you going commando in his pajama pants.

Stepping out of the privacy screen you watched as he handed a note to a ghoul outside the door. You stood there, definitely not wanting to head for the bed, but worried also about drawing closer to him. You would be stupid to not notice the way you were admiring him, or at least his body and the way he moved. Everyone else had been so cold, but the way he thanked the ghoul for taking his message, the way his hair fell in his face, and the way his arms were accentuated by the rolled-up cuffs had your heart pattering.

“What was that about?” you asked.

“I sent Alpha away to get you some food. I’m guessing they didn’t feed you?”

“No. They gave me some bread and water when I got here, but that’s been it.”

His nostrils flared at that information. “Dolcezza, please lie down. You must be lightheaded,” he said, cursing in what was probably Italian under his breath.

“Is this your way of getting me into bed so you can fuck me?”

“I am concerned about your lack of nutrients, per favore.” He gestured to the bed, making his way to a dressing bench that sat near the armoire. “I don’t need to see you injured twice in one night when you hit the floor.”

“You injured me the first time!” you said, walking over to the bed. He had a point about the floor.

“I’m sorry. It was required for the Prime Mover ritual.”

“What is a Prime Mover anyway? People keep calling me that and I don’t really understand what’s going on.”

With surprising alacrity, there was a knock at the door. Terzo jumped up to get it, taking the plate of cheese, fruit, and nuts, and bringing them to where you sat. “Please, eat. I know it isn’t much, but the kitchen ghouls are fixing you an actual meal. This is just while we wait.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said taking a bite of cheese.

He sighed sitting down next to you. “The Prime Mover is the one who will give birth to the Antichrist.”

“And you’re supposed to get me pregnant?”

“More or less.”

A thudding started in your heart. You popped an apple slice into your mouth, trying to distract from the room seeming to spin. “I want to leave.”

“You can’t right now, but if we follow through with my plan you might eventually get to go back home.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, we would… you know,” he gestured to the bed you both sat on. “And then since you carried the Antichrist we could come and go as we please. You could go back to your family and I could go see my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I have 3. They took Copetto from us when he was little though. I never got to say goodbye to him. I can only hope that he still remembers me,” Terzo said, hanging his head.

A stinging in your chest caused you to set the plate of food aside. A light hand on his knee caused him to look up, mismatched eyes threatening to spill tears.

“You’ve been the only person kind to me this entire time, even if you did cut my hand, and I want to help you get your brother back. Plus you’re not bad looking.”

His lips twitched into a smile and you looked as his eyes flit between yours and your mouth. He brought his mouth to yours in a quickness and you found yourself angling more towards him. His hesitancy was notable, seeming to not want to push anything onto you. You carded a hand through his hair, placing another on his chest as you moaned into the kiss.

Terzo laid you further into the bed, hands roaming to feel your body through his soft pajamas. The duvet swallowed you into its velvet and you were lost at sea in the fabric and his touch. Grabbing ahold of his shirt you did your best to undo the buttons, desperate to cling to your fast-becoming rock in this storm of misfortune. He aided you in the last bit, tossing his shirt onto the cold floor, before diving back in peppering your neck with kisses.

“Terzo,” you breathed, air stolen through his attention to your pulse point. He moaned lowly against the column of your throat, slowing his roving hands to squeeze at your hips.

“Yes, dolcezza?”

“That feels so good.” You tugged on his hair as he nipped at your neck.

“I can make you feel even better. Would you like that?”

“Please.” The way it came out of your mouth was sinfully whiny, feeling your core tighten at his words. It almost made you want to never go back home, the way he was able to bend you with just the lick of that tongue.

The pajama shirt you had put on mere minutes ago was undone with speed, and the hunger that possessed him had him seizing immediately upon a nipple. He was right: he could make you feel better. The way his tongue danced, flickered and rolled the nipple in his mouth was enough to make you levitate off the bed, arching your back so your bodies met more fully.

“Oh, fuck! Terzo,” you said, looking down at where his hair fell in his face as he suckled. He looked back up at you, nipple still in mouth, and hummed in satisfaction.

“I am a hungry man, dolcezza,” he said before bringing that wonderful mouth of his to the other breast. His desperation had you clenching, now so willing to give yourself over to him. The thought of him being the one to spill into you, fathering your child, Antichrist or not?

“Terzo, please!” you cried out.

“Please, what?” he muttered into the kisses he pressed along your ribcage.

“Please I need you to fuck me.” It was embarrassing to admit it out loud, but you couldn’t care less how much your cheeks burned when the feel of his tongue and touch burned your skin even more.

“We have all night. No need to rush things,” he said, snaking a hand up your breastbone to support your neck for another languid assault.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped him to his back.

“Sathanas below,” he managed before you captured his lips for a kiss. You reached down, palming his already hard cock through his pants. Each press and stroke had him whimpering into your mouth in a new way, eventually having you break the kiss to focus on undoing his pants.

His cock was already leaking precum and you looked up at him as you licked the bead off. His head fell back into the duvet, overwhelmed as you swirled your tongue around the head, stopping to rub just underneath.

“Dolcezza, please.”

“Please what, Terzo?”

He moaned as you slid him into your mouth. “Satana, diavolessa. Mi farai venire.”

You hummed, picking up the pace. His hand pushing you further onto him had you clenching, thinking about how badly he wanted to fill you. For someone you had just met, you could already pick out that he loved to tease his playmates.

“Fuck,” he said, hand tangled in your hair to pull you off of him. His cock made a satisfying pop as it slid out. “If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the wrong place.”

“Well cum in the right place then,” you said, voice a little hoarse from your ministrations.

He guided you back up to lay your head on the squishy pillows by the headboard.

“I have to incant some words while I take you, is that alright, cara mia?”

“Yes, as long as you fuck me,” you laughed.

He lined himself up with you, the white face paint of his forehead creasing in concentration. Slowly, carefully, he sank into you. He was big, but not painful, and the pressure of him had you already clenching around his cock. “Sit uterus iste Satanae consecratus,” he hissed. He bottomed out, allowing time for you to settle. His finger traced an invisible pentagram just above your pubic bone.

You rolled your hips, urging him to move on.

“Be patient, dolcezza” He shut his eyes as you clenched around him. “Producemus Antichristum hac nocte,” he spoke, thrusting into you. “Will you produce the Antichrist with me, Prime Mover?”

Your mind flashed back to what the dark sister had told you earlier. “I will.” He bucked his hips forward, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Perhaps a little improv wouldn’t hurt? “I-I want you to fuck a baby into me, Terzo.”

Something shifted in his eyes, hair falling into his face. It all lent a darkness to his features, the same darkness you’d been so scared of earlier. He hooked both of your legs over his shoulders and set a reckless pace. “You want me to make you swell with my cum? Is that right, dolcezza? You would be my maternal slave?”

With the way he pressed into you, your knees pinned your own shoulders down as he pressed time and time again into a pleasurable spot so deep you didn’t even know you’d had it until he’d blessed you with his cock. “Yes!” you whined, half in response to him and half unable to believe how good you felt right then, your core tightening deliciously. “I want you to fill me up with your seed. Make me your prime mover.”

“My little breeding slut,” he rasped, biting more at your neck than before. “Papa will make you his, don’t worry. You’ll be free.”

Freedom. That’s what awaited you at the end of this: the ability to go back home. But right here? Right now? Freedom felt so close, and the only thing you craved was-

A hand slipped between your bodies and the lewd noises of hips clapping together seemed to fade away as the pressure inside you began spiraling faster and faster toward the ceiling. “Terzo, I’m going to cum,” you panted.

“Just hold on a little more. Cum simul ut unum. Concipiatur hac nocte Antichristus. In nomine Patris nostri in inferno. Nema.”

“Terzo, please!” You were standing so close to the precipice, trying your best to focus on anything other than how good he was making you feel right now.

“Cum for me. Cum for Lucifer’s Son,” he said, holding pressure down on your throbbing clit. The waves came crashing over you. You felt so at peace staring him in the eyes as you could feel his own hips falter, filling you with his seed to create the Antichrist. This is where I belong, you thought as you pushed yourself up to kiss him, clenching once more to make sure it really took.

“Can we do that again?” you whispered against his lips as your heart steadied from its frantic beat.

“We have all night, dolcezza.”

#terzo x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #prime mover #hurt/comfort

[clementine-writes-things]

Let The Light In - E.N

Summary: Y/n and Edward celebrate their 5 year anniversary. Edward has a little secret up his sleeve. (Song fic)

Content Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff, adorableness, lovey-dovey romance. This is honestly so beautiful. Short but sweet.

Song for Inspo:

Let The Light In - Lana Del Rey and Father John Misty (we salute Lana I love my mother so much)

READ BELOW CUT

"Ed, why do I need to keep my eyes closed? I might run into something!" Y/n giggled.

"It's a surprise! Just a few more steps!" He said.

"We already went out to get dinner, went to a movie, and a stroll through the park! What else do you have planned?"

"Shhh! Ok, open your eyes!"

Y/n removed her hands from over her eyes, her mouth agape as she looked around. The full moon shone down on the pond before her, casting a reflection in the ripples that looked like it was straight from an oil painting. As she recognized more features, she turned around, her eyes widening as she saw the cabin behind her. Fairy lights were strung up on the porch, the roof overgrown with ivy and sprinkled with moss. Clovers and flowers littered the grass around them. She looked back towards Edward, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my God, Edward! Our first anniversary?!" She exclaimed.

He nodded.

"I remember when we visited this cabin. You always loved being out in nature. You were so surprised when I bought the property, even though it was dirt cheap, but you saw value in it. And that made me see value in it."

She smiled.

"I never took you as the handyman type but, you got to work and fixed up the cabin so fast. You had so many splinters after that." She giggled.

"I figured we could visit the cabin again."

"It looks beautiful, Edward. It's...breathtaking. You even lit candles!"

He grabbed her hand, taking it in his as he looked into her eyes for a second. Leading her gently, he brought her up to the porch which was pretty large for a small cabin. He bent over, placing a record on the record player. Y/n raised an eyebrow.

"Edward, what are you pla-" She trailed off as the song began to play.

"It's our song, honey. Will you dance with me in the moonlight?" He asked, leading her back down the steps.

"Of course.." She sighed happily.

Edward wrapped his arm around her waist, his free hand holding onto her hand. He let her place her other hand on his hip before he swayed softly, her chest close to his. They both looked out on the pond, lily pads floating on the water, fireflies blinking in the air.

'Pick you up at home, quarter to three'

'Ask you if you want somethin' to eat'

'Drive around get drunk do it over again'

Edward planted a kiss on her head as he rubbed her hip with his thumb. His heart was racing, a small bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he danced softly on the dewy grass.

'Wake you up at night, quarter to one'

'I can never stop, wanna have fun'

'Don't be actin' like I'm the kinda girl who can sleep'

Y/n sighed softly, looking up into Edward's eyes. He smiled at her, his dimples showing slightly. She smiled back, placing her head back on his chest.

'Cause every time you say you're gonna go'

'I just smile, 'cause babe, I already know'

'You know I got nothin' under this overcoat'

"Edward, this is so beautiful. I can't believe you did all of this for me."

"I'd do anything for you, y/n."

'Ooh, let the light in'

'At your back door yelling cause I wanna come in'

'Ooh, turn your light on'

'Look at us, you and I, back at it again'

"I don't deserve someone like you, Ed. You're too good to me." She smiled.

"You deserve everything good in this world, my love. Everything and more. Don't ever think otherwise."

'Pick you up around quarter to two'

'Usually we got nothin' to do'

'Screw it, maybe you should go and record some of your songs'

"Regardless, I'm lucky to be with you."

"As am I, darling."

'Got my dress on tight 'cause you know that I'

'Like shinin' in the light, there's so much ridin''

'On this life and how we write a love song'

The two of them hummed to the tune of the song together, the warmth from each other's bodies keeping them toasty in the cold spring air of the night.

'Ooh, let the light in'

'At your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in'

'Ooh, turn your light on'

'Look at us, you and I, back at it again'

The night was beautiful, the moon not covered by a single cloud. The crickets and frogs created a beautiful symphony, serving as a background noise amidst the music that made it sound even more peaceful. Everything was gentle and calm.

''Cause I love to love, to love, to love you'

'I hate to hate, to hate, to hate you'

'Put the Beatles on, light the candles, go back to bed'

Edward stopped dancing, rubbing the knuckle of his thumb down y/n's cheek. Smiling, he took a deep breath and got down on his knee. Y/n's eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips.

"Y/n, I have loved since the very first day I saw you. You lit a spark in my heart that grew into a fire. And it hasn't gone out, nor will it ever. We've been dating for far too long. I can't go another year as your boyfriend. It doesn't feel right..."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out black velvet case. Opening it, he revealed a beautiful silver ring with a brilliant diamond. The band was shaped to look like vines intertwined, small leaves hanging off the ends. It was gorgeous. He let out a shaky breath, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Y/n already had tears streaming down her face.

"I...oh god...I need you in my life forever. I want you in my life forever. I need you like the oxygen I breathe. I want you like I've never wanted anything nor anyone in my entire life. You are my entire world, y/n. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. I love you so much." He blinked away a tear, letting it roll down his cheek.

''Cause I wanna, wanna, wanna want you'

'I need to, need to, need to need you'

'Put the TV on, the flowers in a vase, lie your head'

Edward took a deep yet unstable breath, adjusting his glasses quickly. He looked up at y/n, both of their eyes cloudy with tears.

"Y/n, the love of my life, my everything, will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?" He choked on a sob at the end.

"Oh, Edward yes! Yes of course I will." She cried softly.

Edward's eyes widened, shooting up from the ground instantly. He grabbed the ring from the case, hands trembling as he slid the ring on his fiancés finger. He couldn't contain it anymore, tears of joy streaming down his face as he embraced her in a tight hug. He laughed through is sobs as he planted kisses on her forehead, neck, anywhere he could reach.

"I love you so much, y/n. More than words can express." He whispered, fingers entwined in her hair.

"I love you too, Edward. I love you so much..."

'Ooh, let the light in'

'At your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in'

'Ooh, turn your light on'

'Look at us, you and me, back at it again...'

#fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #writers #fanfic #the riddler #edward nygma #dc universe #gotham #lana del rey #Spotify

[styleofdiamandis]

            PHOTOSHOOT: GAY TIMES MAGAZINE

Marina Diamandis looked larger than life for Laura Allard-Fleischl’s lens. The photoshoot served for the Gay Times magazine’s April 2019 issue and featured our girl posing in some of the most colorful fashion out there!

She was styled by Umar Sarwar (chapeau!), coiffed by Brady Lea using Hair by Sam McKnight and glammed by Maria Aside using M·A·C Cosmetics.

The cover look is from Gucci’s Spring/Summer 2019 collection. M opted for the glorious purple metallic pleated dress with puff shoulders...

...a cascading silver crystal fringe choker, which I wouldn’t mind owning myself,...

...and triple wrap gold-tone snake bracelet with clear crystals all over.

A pair of the VV champagne-colored glitter and mesh pumps by Nicholas Kirkwood pulled the look together.

The next two looks hail from Moschino’s drawing-themed Spring/Summer 2019 collection! Firstly, she wore the white & blue scribble print round neck jacket, matching cigarette pants...

...blue scribble wide-brimmed straw boater hat...

...and blue scribble and gold chain printed leather pointed-toe pumps!

This look features a heart scribble print silk pussy-bow blouse and red & white scribble high-waisted skirt with pleats. Jeremy Scott you genius.

Her beaded red flower earrings are created by London-based emerging designer Clio Peppiatt, whose designs you’ll see way more in the future on SoD!

Of course, to complete the look, she held a Moschino Spring/Summer 2019 black scribble leather clutch with logo and resin chain...

...and the matching scribble leather pointed-toe pumps.

Here, our girl poses in a Pinko pale yellow bouclé cropped hopsack jacket with buttons which she combined with lilac floral full embroidered silk pants from Central Saint Martins graduate Xu Zhi’s Spring/Summer 2019 collection!

These heart-shaped pink beaded earrings are also signed by Clio Peppiatt!

It’s getting sunny with a yellow wool jacket with round neck and gold buttons, and a matching silk midi dress, both seen on Escada’s Spring/Summer 2019 runway!

Her gold-tone bamboo hoop earrings are a vintage treasure discovered at Rokit.

Missoma created the Interstellar 18k yellow-gold vermeil & rainbow moonstone gems star drop necklace.

Another beauty from the house of Escada is this ultra cute quilted orange leather heart flap bag with gold-tone hardware!

The yellow rubber slingback platform mules with orb detail are a collaboration between shoe brand Melissa and Vivienne Westwood.

Our final look shows Marina Diamandis in an acid-green blazer dress with cut-outs on the back, large flap pockets and silver metal buttons from David Koma’s Spring/Summer 2019 collection.

Finally, she completed the look with the Kenzo Spring/Summer 2019 Ana patent leather mules in green, blue & white!

#March 2019 #Hair by Sam McKnight #MAC Cosmetics #Gucci #Nicholas Kirkwood #Clio Peppiatt #Xu Zhi #Escada #Moschino #David Koma #Melissa #Vivienne Westwood #Missoma #Kenzo #Pinko #Rokit

[untilthenextencore]

Linda Mujer Ch. 2~...

The day couldn't come soon enough. Though both Robert & Jimmy tried not to show it outwardly, once in their room each scoured their closet for just the right outfit suitable for their debut in her circle. In her club. They managed to secure a table & secret entry to the club by calling ahead. Another facet of their fame or Peter's name they weren't sure. Either way they were grateful.

Soon enough, both Jimmy & Robert found their chosen looks for the day. Jimmy chose a dark velvet suit & silk button up. Robert's suit had shimmery lame accents, his shirt opened for the first few buttons & his trademark love beads & turquoise jewelry as his accessories for the day. Both seemed suitable for such an auspicious evening.

The night of the show, Peter instructed the two on what gifts to pair with both their arrival & their note of introduction. He chose the floral arrangements; roses & carnations & the usual baby's breath. And despite their misgivings, thinking maybe champagne would be a better choice, he paired the flowers with a bottle of sparkling apple cider. An odd pairing. But Peter promised he thought it fitting. He told them that if it worked, they'd likely get the story later.

And so it was that later on, they made an odd pair of sorts - amongst the slightly more conservatively dressed denizens of the club - while bringing along their odd paired flower & drink tribute.

The club had a sort of baroque Spanish Gothic exterior with the interior caught somewhere between an old French club and a Gilded Age haunt. Red and black leather upholstered booths, dark wood tables, chandeliers & antique brass & frosted glass lights & accents. Though small, or rather intimate, there was room for an orchestra pit with an orchestra in white tie & tails. Very classy. Very old world.

Once at the club however, they found they were not the only ones with such tributes in tow. Men both young and old at neighboring tables & booths could be seen passing notes, flowers & gifts in tell-tale little velvet boxes to waiters with conspiratorially whispered words on just who to pass them to. Though it was obvious. All knew. All were politely refused & returned. No matter the size of the box or the brilliance of what glimmered inside. No dice. No sale. No chance.

It was enough to dissuade meeker men.

Not them.

Though unnerved, they trusted Peter. Trusted his choice. And they trusted that they could get in where others could not. It had happened before. So many times before. Perhaps it could again.

The next moment they found themselves distracted. The already dim lights went dimmer still, a spotlight centered on center stage at a large red velvet-draped curtain as the drumroll sounded & the orchestra kicked up. One shapely stockinged leg kicked out of the curtain and a cheer resounded from the audience.

The show was on.

Their gazes and attentions now fully fixed on the stage ahead.

That same stockinged leg had the spotlight travel up from toe to hip before it disappeared back behind the curtain. The curtain then parted to reveal a young lady with a mass of raven curls piled atop her head & pinned with crystal clips. Red lacquered lips, cat-eyed liner, softly blushed cheeks. It was her. The girl from the articles they'd seen before. The glamour girl herself. It was Merce.

She had a matching crystal accent on her black silk choker & at the center of the sweetheart neckline of her off-the-shoulder gown. A glittering dark black cinch-waisted full-skirted gown with ruffled puff sleeves and matching black silk opera-length gloves. Those gloved hands reached down and delicately peeled back her skirts as she danced about, to the cheers of the crowd.

She reached out & took the hand of a patron as she sang in smooth if softly accented English, curtsying to his wife & handing her a rose. Deferential. Smoothing things over before anyone could get too riled up.

Her whole routine was very much colored in Mexican culture. She held the petals of her dress aloft swishing it as she sang in Spanish now. The orchestra took place of a Mariachi, both its members along with a large portion of the audience joined her in song.

Both Robert & Jimmy enjoyed this bit of song and dance. Neither of course minded the peekaboo view of mile-long legs beneath her skirt as she danced. It had a sort of music hall homey sweetness. Very comforting. Familiar yet foreign all at once.

They minded even less what came next.

She went along & slowly peeled off her gloves one by one, flinging them into the audience. Jimmy ended up catching one. Robert arced his body & nearly dove to catch the other. The two of them grinned triumphantly at each other as other patrons grumbled.

Merce for her part curtsied in their direction before continuing with her routine. She removed the top layer of her skirt, revealing the shimmery petticoats underneath. Whirling the skirt around she then shielded herself from view, holding it just under her eyes at first & then inching it down, draping it around her curves. Soon that too was discarded into a small silken heap on the stage. As was each layer of her petticoat one by one after they were used in a sort of dance of the seven veils.

Whistles abounded as she undulated her way out of the wasp-waisted bodice of her gown, leaving her in the sweetheart off-the-shoulder bra top & matching bottoms along with her stockings, heels & choker. Another dance of the seven veils with her skirts followed as she inched her way out of more of her costume. Each swish of her skirt over her body brought a new revelation. A bared shoulder. Another clip of her top undone. At the end of the dance, the final result was half-revealed half-hinted at;

Merce then lifted & held the shimmery petticoat layer up, draping it across her body as she held her top aloft to her side between her manicured fingers. The swells of her breasts were just visible behind the fabric, nipples hid by her arm. She dropped her top suddenly before turning to kick up her heel at the last beats of the song, revealing a hint of shapely & similarly shimmery fabric draped rear before the curtain dropped & the show was over. Cheers abounded. Whistles. Calls for an encore. But it was all for naught. Her routine was over & the band kicked up signalling it was time to reset for the next act.

At that moment a member of the staff came to retrieve the tossed gloves. The moment had arrived. He was very apologetic for the trouble, offering a round of free drinks to the lads in return for the gloves.

"There's no need for that..." Jimmy started only to be cut off by his blonde compatriot.

"I'll have a cider, mate!"

Jimmy cut Robert a look to which the blonde responded.

"What? Why not? Might as well! As long as we're here! I mean they're offering!"

Jimmy swallowed his ire as best as he could before nodding & placing his order. "Jack & coke please."

Robert then followed up by passing the note to the gent. "And if you could, please give this to Miss Quintero?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. Miss Quintero doesn't accept gifts or notes from people she doesn't know." The man replied nervously.

"But I see gentlemen leaving for the stage door now?" Robert motioned to the gents leaving their tables to head to a stageside corridor then.

"They often try, sir. But she asks us to dissuade them. Though they still try. She doesn't accept gifts or money or anything. I'm sorry, sir."

"No need to be sorry, my good man." Jimmy smiled. "But I assure you this is different. If you can just take this note & tell her Peter Grant sends his regards. If she still refuses, just bring it back to us & after our drinks we'll be on our way."

"Peter Grant?" The man queried, looking to Robert & Jimmy as they nodded. "Alright. I guess it's worth a try. Please forgive me if it doesn't work & she still doesn't take it."

"No problem mate." Robert patted him on the back. "No harm done either way."

"No harm in trying, right?" Jimmy asked as he lit up.

The man nodded with a soft, "Excuse me..." and disappeared with the gloves & the note away down the corridor.

Robert & Jimmy received their drinks shortly after. They sipped & waited. By the third sip, however, the man was back. He looked incredulous. Stunned really. He spoke in an awed hush, clearly not believing the words he himself was about to say. "Please come with me, sirs. She'll see you shortly."

And with the roses & sparkling cider in tow they were on their way.

Down the corridor, they saw security doing away with a group of would-be suitors. Roses & jewels & stuffed animals were all being refused sight unseen. Some suitors tried greasing palms to no avail. No amount of money would help them gain an audience. Those same suitors grumbled & quite visibly & loudly griped at Robert & Jimmy being guided down yet another corridor that lead to her dressing room.

Once there, the man knocked on her door.

"Bueno?" A soft voice called out in Spanish.

"Señorita Rojas, it's me Felipe. I have your guests here."

"Gracias, Felipe. Un momento."

Felipe then turned & bowed to the two Englishmen. He then advised them, "Call me if you need anything", before disappearing.

Moments later, the door opened, Merce smiling a bright, eager smile as she fastened her dressing gown around her.

But that smile soon fell.

Merce replacing it with a quizzical look.

"There must be some kind of mistake." She pouted. "Can I help you two?"

"Miss Rojas?" Jimmy asked as Robert stayed in awed silence.

"Yes? Who's asking?" She asked, standing close to the door lest she needed to close it at a moment's notice.

"I'm so sorry. How rude of me. My name's Jimmy Page. This is my friend Robert."

"Plant..." Robert added, still a bit agog.

"I thought you two looked familiar." Merce nodded, only just then taking her hand off the door handle yet still remaining close by. "What can I do for you gentlemen? What brings you here?"

"You of course." Jimmy smiled. "That was a phenomenal performance. Stunning really. It was a delightful & dearly appreciated treat to be able to watch. Thank you."

"Thank you so much. I do my best to put on a good show. I'm glad to know it's appreciated." A small smile curved at her lips, yet full entrance to her inner sanctum was not yet allowed. "I must say, though this is quite a pleasant surprise to see the two of you here, I was expecting to see someone else with you. Hoping... I mean with the note and all..."

"You mean Peter?" Robert asked, suddenly snapping to.

"Ah, yes." She nodded. "He's not with you is he?"

"No, unfortunately." Jimmy cut back in. "We're close friends & business associates of Mr. Grant. Robert & I have known him for years."

"He manages us." Robert explained rather succinctly as always.

"I see..." Merce nodded, clearly still waiting for another shoe to drop.

"He sends his regards." Robert added, hoping to help smooth things over.

"He also sent us to invite you to join us at a party. He'll be there & I know he'd love to see you. Just as much as you'd love to see him I'm sure." Jimmy added with a grin.

Merce paused for a moment, considering their words & offer. "Perhaps... Give me a moment..."

And then at last.

"Please come in..."

Robert & Jimmy stepped in, seating themselves on a chaise in her roomy dressing room suite. Merce quickly dialed a number on the house phone, waiting until the other side picked up. "Hello, mami? Mami, I know you're expecting me at home but I was invited to a party. Would you mind if I go?"

Though they tried not to listen in, they could still hear Gloria gasp in surprise before enthusing. "Go! Go! Go, mija! Go! Go and have fun! Have fun! Have an adventure! You deserve it, my love! You work so hard!"

"Okay, mami. Thank you. Don't wait up. I'll see you in the morning. Love you." She & Gloria exchanged kisses before she hung up & then turned to regard Jimmy & Robert anew.

"Are those for me?"

At last Jimmy & Robert took the chance they were allowed to offer Merce the flowers & cider respectively. As they did so, Merce's smile widened. Brightened. Her eyes glittered as she inhaled the aroma of the bouquet. "Mmmm... He remembered..."

When she took the bottle, Robert explained. "I would think champagne would be better but he insisted on this instead."

"No, no, no..." Merce shook her head, looking over the bottle with a smile. "This is perfect. I love it. Thank you. Both of you. I don't usually accept visitors or gifts as I'm sure Felipe has explained to you. But this... This is different. Another thing entirely. Thank you so much."

Were those tears edging her eyes as she beamed at them?

They didn't have much time to consider as she turned on the small radio near on her dressing table, playing some Mexican boleros as she headed to the second room in her little dressing room suite. "Excuse me, won't you? I'll be a minute. Just let me pick a dress."

There was a dressing screen in the corner of the room, yet Merce dressed in the other room. The lads heard her call amidst a rustle of fabric & clicking hangers. "I don't suppose it's a black tie affair?"

"Ah, no. Decidedly more casual than that I'm afraid." Robert laughed.

"I figured. Something told me as much. Can't imagine what it was though. Something barechested perhaps?" She replied with a laugh.

Robert & Jimmy laughed.

"Smart girl." Jimmy grinned.

"I do try..." Merce countered as more rustling & the sound of a zipper rang out.

They heard her hum along to the music along with more rustling, the zipper inching up & light clinking at the end. Jewelry.

Within moments she reappeared back into the room.

And she was A SIGHT!

As was her chosen dress!

A dark black sequined full-skirted dress with layered puff sleeves and a nipped waist. She accessorized it with a shimmery star-studded shroud of a veil along with matching star jewelry including her crystal hairclips. She looked stunning. Yet, she still saw fit to ask as she checked herself in the mirror.

"How do I look? I hope I look alright. Do you suppose this will do for the party?"

"Phwoar..." Robert hushed.

"Is that good?" Merce asked. "By the way, would one of you mind helping me with the clasp in the back? I can't quite reach."

Instantly, Robert & Jimmy leapt to their feet.

Robert however was the victor this time as he reached her first & was the one to carefully secure the clasp to her gown together.

"You look lovely, my dear." Jimmy smiled, taking the opportunity to bring her delicate, manicured hand up to place a kiss to the back. "A true vision..."

Robert made a face at Jimmy over her shoulder to which he grinned. The grin widening as he saw Merce blush despite herself.

"Quite a gentleman aren't you?" She asked with a soft tilt of her head.

Robert snorted, leading Merce to glance at him over her shoulder quizzically before Jimmy's clasping both hands around hers brought her attention back to him.

"I do try..." He teased.

They shared a giggle before Robert came around plucking up her gifts with his left arm, offering his other arm to her. "Shall we go, luv?"

One hand caught in Jimmy's grasp, Merce nodded & linked her other arm through the one Robert offered. "Yes, let's."

Jimmy patted her hand & gave it a small squeeze. "We're off then..."

As they disappeared out of her dressing room, down the corridor & into the night...

~

Hope you all enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!...

#untilthenextencore #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fan fiction #led zeppelin fan fic #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fan fiction #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant fan fiction #robert plant fan fic #linda mujer fic

[the-fiction-witch]

Blood Of A Cesar

Media The last Legion

Character Romulus Augustus (Age Up)

Couple Romulus X Reader 

Rating Smut

Concept Kings Blood is powerful

Smut restraints/ riding/ full sex/ bitting

I sat on the little stone bench looking out across the sweet fountains, plants and statues in the courtyard. Bored out of my mind, but that was fairly normal, However could assume emperor of all Rome and her empires would be so damn bored all the time. I never get to do anything around here the senet deals with most things and my advisers hardly ever even ask me about anything anymore.

"Why so glum Romulus?" Aurelius asked as he headed into the courtyard

"I'm bored" I sighed "I never get to do anything anymore Aurelius. I can't even remember the last time they let me out of the villa"

"Well, likely before your coronation"

"See, I haven't been out of the villa since I was a child. you're the only person I even speak to"

For a moment he glanced around the courtyard noticing the lack of my security "Perhaps, we can go on a little adventure" he smiled "Come on" he says

I happily followed him making sure we weren't followed as we headed to my suite, he picked me out some clothes I often wore on days I didn't have much to do just plain old fabrics without much grandeur as well as cloak to hide myself away

"Go on, scamper over the wall and into the city. I'll cover for you shut the room up and claim we are having a meeting just be back before sunrise tomorrow"

"I will, I promise" I smiled happily taking a bag and heading out the villa, I managed to get over the little villa wall and I quickly ran through towards town.

I walked through the cobblestones looking at all the little shops and stalls about the city, People didn't even pay attention to me but I didn't care finally being outside of that damn villa for a while, seeing all the little things that never came to the villa foods, trinkets and such like. knowone even glanced at me nothing about me drawing any of their attention away from their business well... almost everyone.

Across the market leant against the stone collum for the outside of the bathhouse was a girl, she looked my age if maybe a year or so older. She had this dark almost black hair with slight light silver highlights in these spring-like curls that loomed down to her waist loose enough to have an inch or so between each curl, she had a sweet face with almost glinting green eyes, peach coloured lips that curved on one side to hold a seductive smile. her body graced with a long lilac stoa that reached her ankles, a leather harness of some type around her waist, and shoulders and crossed over her chest slightly supporting her breasts, the nipples of which at times made their presence known below the fabric, small leather sandals that laced high up her legs in a crossing pattern, purple tie in her hair made of the same fabric as the dress with small silver beads to line it,  a silver chain around her neck hung low the pendant of a crescent moon hung in line with her heart. In her hand was a wicker basket with flowers, herbs, and small wax-sealed bottles.

She was looking at me.

and only me.

She seemed to watch me as I made my way across the market that smiles still lingering, part of me was worried as I had heard of the... kind of girls that linger on street corners and knew I could never partake in their business as Emporer and king it wasn't even a consideration.

I found my feet powered by themselves as I uncontrollably walked to her standing on the cobbles just before her stone step.

"Good Afternoon" she cooes

"Afternoon, I uh I'm sorry for staring I was merely curious to your wares," I told her trying not to sound nervous

"Of course" she smiled showing her basket more clearly "Tonics, potions and helpful things" she encouraged "Can I interest you in some luck tonic?" she smiled

"Ohh that's okay, but are those lavender flowers?"

"We always have Lavender" she smiled getting a sweet sprig from her basket

"how much?" I asked here getting some coins from my bag

"No charge" she giggled handing it over

"Ohh, thank you" I smiled happily taking it "that's very sweet of you, If I may ask why?"

"You seem a sweet one" she smiled

"Thank you, you seem very sweet too." I smiled "I uhh I'm Romulus"

"Y/n" she smiled

"If I uhhh if I may say so. You're beautiful"

"Ohh," she blushed "thank you very much, sweet and handsome"

"oooh. I uhhh I uhh thank you" I stuttered

"if you like, We could go for a little walk in the lavender fields"

"Well, if you'd like that"

"Umm hummm" she smiled offering her arm, I happily smiled and took her arm.

She lead me though the city and out of the city walls. I'm sure auralious wouldn't want me leaving the city but I felt so safe with this girl. She lead me into the woods though the sweet lavender fields and such until we reached a sweet little house and she tugged me inside the little wooden cottage with a sweet fire going setting the basket down.

She smiled widely and tugged off my cloak a little and cuddling me closely wrapping her arms around my neck peppering little kisses across my skin.

"ohh I uhh" I stuttered pushing her back a little moving back her hips "I uhh I don't have that kinda money" I told her a little upset that I was wrong and she-

she blushed a little "I'm not that sort of girl romulus"

"Oh, your not?"

"No. did you think i was?" she asked a little offended

"well I just uhh I wan't sure. sorry I don't get out much"

"No, not that sort of girl"

"Good." I smiled tugging her hips a little closer

she pulled me closer and kissing my lips I happily kissed her back stroking her hips and her waist we kissed for a while it getting deeper and more passionate she pulled back and tugged me to a beautiful wooden bed with sheer purple curtains she pushed me to sit down and she happily climbed into my lap but I blushed hard

"I uhhh... I ummmm... I've never."

"Ohh, never?" she blushed

"Never."

"I'll be gentle then" she smiled pulling me back to kissing her I happily kissed her intensely stroking my hands across her skin sweetly after a while she pushed me back to lay on her bed, I held her closer kissing her more passionately she stroked her hands across my arms before she pinned my wrists to the bed and pinning my arms above my head kissing me far more intensely till she pulled back kissing down my neck I was going to wrap my arms around her but I couldn't move my hands which made me panic. I tried to stay calm looking over noticing she had put my hands through a tie meaning they where tied to the bedposts and there was nothing I could do completely at her mercy.

"Uhhhhhhhh.... what are you doing?" I asked

"just keeping you calm" she smiled pushing apart my shirt peppering with kisses

"Ummm, okay." I groaned a little feeling her sweet kisses, she untied my pants and pulled them down enough to expose me completely to her

"Ummm what a pretty boy" she giggled stroking my stomach as she moved her dress up and immediately slipped down my erection

"Ughh! Oh my god!" I gasped grabbing the bedsheets hard feeling her almost immediately starting to move her hips against me getting faster and faster leaving me a moaning mess I knew I was close.

But suddenly I noticed something she had pulled back her dress to reveal her bare breasts, her hands on my stomach as she moved muttering things as she did I couldn't tell what it was she was saying possibly just muttering things from the pleasure. I didn't care really too close to even care what she was saying.

Uncontrollably I bucked my hips up and groaned opening my eyes waiting to stare at her halof naked ontop of me but...

I panicked as she sat over me bare breasted muttering these strange words I didn't understand but they where clear and obvious not strange mutterings but words and phrases that just made no sense to me, in her hands a blade of silver hung above me menicingly-

OH FUCK!

She quickly moved the blade down before I could pannic badly cutting the blade across my chest not deep enough to kill me but enough to make me bleed she threw the knife and climbed off my lap

"What the hell! what are you doing to me!"

she returned to a bottle letting the blood run down into her bottle,

"I know who you are romulus" she smiled

"you do?" I asked in fear

"Umm, your a sweet little thing. But I need some powerful blood for my magic and no blood is more powerful then the blood of a king." she smiled "And cesar blood. your going to be very helpful" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss "I'll let you finish when I have what I need"

"you- you lied to me"

"You never asked if I was a witch." she smiled "relax sweetheart. I'll drop you back to your villa before sunrise" she smiled "and I'll make sure to thank you for all your help" she smiled kissing down my stomach

"uuuhhhhh okay. but I'm still not thrilled about it"

#Romulus #romulus augustus #romulus imagine #romulus smut #The last legion #the last leigon #tbs #tbs fanfic #tbs smutty #tbs smut #tbs sex #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #thomas #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas broide sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas smut #thomas sangster smut #thomas sangser imagine #Thomas Imagine #thomas imagines

[bujorulgalben]

💘 have you ever thought about getting married? what would your wedding look like?

tell it to my heart | accepting!  

Oh, you are mean. What girl does not think of their wedding, hm?

I mean, yes, granted, marriages hardly have the best track record in this neighbourhood. It hardly- no, sorry, it never ends well. A bride's tears on the day will bless a wedding, but tears on every preceding day are no blessing at all! I know... hm. I know that marriage is not in my future, not in this life, but it does not stop the fanciful daydreams, yes? Of course not! Maybe some symbolic, play-pretend wedding- wait, there is a name for these... commitment ceremony? A renewal of bonding vows? Am I just imagining this??

Well, either way, I think that could be beautiful! If I, uh, could find a way to... hehe, play ignorant to the costs? So, if you are offering to pay for this for me, firstly, thank you! Because I do have some ideas! Take careful note:

It cannot be in May. It must be raining. I would love a more traditional outfit for it; high lacy neckline, billowing sleeves, pinched waist, tight across the chest- what! I do have a nice one! Oh, and it needs a long, ghostly veil, and that needs a long train as well. Pearls and beads pinned into a little up-do. Whites- oh, off-white, I suppose, and little accents of gold in the embroidery, yes? It will look wonderful with the stefana atop my head... ah, if only.

A-and that train needs to be one that is separate from the dress - I will need to dance afterwards, yes? I have heard that weddings here are not for the faint of heart...considering that they and the party combined often last well over a day. So I would have to say 'no' to silly high heels! For once!! But I would absolutely never say no to the flowers... oh, so very many flowers! I would love a giant bouquet of peonies and lilies of the valley! One that hides my little hands... they are very traditional wedding flowers, you see. Yes. That is why. I would need to dress all of the tables and make the bridesmaids' bouquets as well, naturally! Oh! Look at what you have done!

This is hardly fair! Making me fantasize like this, about something that will never happen. How very cruel to deny me of this sacrament... but the Lord must know it would only end with bitter tears. This. This must be for the best. I must be thankful for this mercy He shows me. Yes.

#oh only a few ideas anica! just a few! the odd couple of thoughts! #god i love wedding hcs for her #but also balkan weddings are way too hardcore for me! i would not survive! #you're only seeing the cake at 4am! you better be dancing before then! wakey wakey! #ty for indulging me here ;_;